


Let Us Not Forget This

by citsiurtlanu



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man Noir, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2017, Community: cap_ironman, M/M, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 18:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11167491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citsiurtlanu/pseuds/citsiurtlanu
Summary: Steve Rogers knew, knows, will know Tony Stark, the adventurer, the scientist, the futurist.  And Tony Stark - well, he's not really fond of the idea of this Captain America fellow being assigned to tag along as he, Rhodey, Pepper, and Jarvis race to find a powerful relic before the Nazis do, but he just has to go with it.  What he doesn't - and can't - realize is how deeply Cap is tied into his life in ways he can barely even understand.





	Let Us Not Forget This

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Captain America/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2017 Art](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/298611) by ireallyshouldbedrawing. 



> This fic takes place after the events of Iron Man Noir and assumes that Tony was able to fix his heart with the orichalcum he found, so his heart is not an issue. This fic is also kind of an AU of something, but naming it would be a huge spoiler so I'll drop it at the end. :)
> 
> Super thanks to [needchocolatenow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/needchocolatenow/pseuds/needchocolatenow), who did an eleventh-hour beta job of this mess and provided the support I so badly needed along the way, lololol.
> 
> And SUPER DUPER MAJOR THANKS to [ireallyshouldbedrawing](http://ireallyshouldbedrawing.tumblr.com/), who did the SUPER BEAUTIFUL AMAZING ART that... somehow managed to spawn this fic?? You can and should find it here: <http://ireallyshouldbedrawing.tumblr.com/post/161695575290>!! Thank you so much for your patience with me as I just kind of bumbled my way through all these words.

_"I wouldn't have changed a thing," Tony says._

_They look at each other in the barely-there lights, and Steve thinks he can hear both of their hearts pounding in unison.  "Nothing, huh?" he asks softly._

_"Nothing," Tony repeats.  He leans in closer, and now Steve_ knows _that pulsing sound is their hearts beating in time.  One hand is on Steve's shoulder, and Steve doesn't push it away.  "Because I met you."_

_Steve closes his eyes and sighs as he feels the press of Tony's lips against his own._

 

*

 

_It's late when Steve enters the tent, but it doesn't matter—Tony's still awake, surrounded by scattered pieces of paper, his face illuminated by a low-burning lantern.  Steve is almost sorry to disturb him when he looks so focused, but his watch is over and he'd really like to catch some shut-eye with Tony now._

_"Hey," he says._

_Tony jerks, having obviously not noticed his entrance, but then he looks up and something in Steve aches at how the sight of him can apparently make all the tension melt out of Tony's shoulders.  He doesn't know how he makes Tony feel this way, but he's grateful he does.  "Hey yourself," Tony says, and even as he smiles at him one hand idly reaches down to scribble something out._

_"Is that for the Rad Lab?" Steve asks, nodding down at the papers._

_Tony follows his gaze.  "The boys are stuck on something.  I'm trying to help solve it."_

_"It's four in the morning."_

_"Then frankly, it's embarrassing I haven't solved it by now."_

_Steve exhales sharply, annoyance and fondness fighting for dominance.  "Tony," he says at last.  "You can't help others if you don't help yourself first."_

_Tony looks up again, and this time, behind the focus and the determination Steve can see exhaustion clearly written on his face.  Still, what he says is, "The longer I take, the more people get hurt."_

_"This isn't just your burden," Steve says._

_There's a long pause where they just stare at each other, saying nothing.  Finally Tony turns away, starting to clean up the papers.  Steve relaxes and strips down so that he's just in his t-shirt and trousers, then goes over to his sleeping bag, pulling it closer to Tony's.  He slips in, reaching out toward the lantern.  "Can I turn this off?" he asks._

_Tony nods, and the tent goes dark.  Steve can hear shuffling as Tony gets into his bag and scoots closer.  "I don't know if I should be irritated or grateful," he says._

_Steve doesn't reply.  Not verbally, anyway.  Instead, he reaches out, wrapping one arm around Tony, feeling the warmth of his body against his skin.  It's nice.  It's so very nice._

_"Grateful, then," Tony continues quietly._

_Steve thinks about the past and the future and the present, about what he knows must come, and he takes the time to make out the shape of Tony in the darkness, the soft sound of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest.  He'll remember this._

 

*

 

_Tony pushes Steve's hand away, stalking toward the edge of the room before going still, seemingly staring at the wall.  "How long?" he asks._

_Steve takes a deep breath.  He knows what's coming.  "Since the beginning," he says._

_"You had_ no right _," Tony all but snarls in response, whipping around to face him again, eyes dark with anger.  "No right!  How could you keep this from me?"_

I'm sorry _, Steve wishes he could say, but he can't.  He's not sorry.  He would do this all over again, even knowing where it would take him.  "This was my choice," he says instead._

_"Lying.  Yes, what a great choice," Tony snaps at him._

_Excuses blossom in Steve's mind, but he knows that none of them will fly with Tony.  Tony will leave the room, fly back to Massachusetts, and this'll be the last time Steve sees him.  He'll leave with anger in his heart and nothing Steve does can change it._

_The silence stretches as Tony looks at him, gaze boring into Steve's eyes.  If Tony finds what he's looking for, he doesn't mention it.  "You're not going to say anything?" he presses._

_There's nothing to say.  Steve shakes his head._

_Tony makes a soft sound of disgust, turning toward the door.  "I'm going back to the Rad Lab," he says.  "I don't want to see you again."_

_Steve still says nothing, instead watching as Tony jerks the door open, steps through, and pulls it shut behind him.  As angry as he must be, he doesn't slam it, and the door closes with a soft click._

_That's it.  Tony is gone._

_And even though Steve has seen this play out over and over, of telling Tony what he'd kept to himself for so long, of Tony drawing away, of Steve unable to find the words to make it better, of Tony leaving—it still hurts as much as it ever did._

 

*

 

_"I wanted you to know," Steve says, even though he knows Tony won't reply, "that I always wished things could have turned out differently.  But I am also grateful to have known you, and I wouldn't have changed a thing—"_

 

*

 

"This isn't what I signed up for," Tony said, tossing the folder onto the table and giving Fury's one good eye the best glare he possibly could.  "If I wanted to keep on hunting for mystical relics, I would have.  I signed up for the war effort instead.  I think that should have told you where my priorities currently lie."

               "In solving problems about radar until you fall asleep at your desk from exhaustion because you don't want to think about anything else?" Fury supplied.  Tony frowned.  Who the hell was Fury getting his information from?  "That's very noble, Stark.  Admirable."

               Tony suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and he quickly pushed his chair back so that he could stand up.  "So can I go now?"

               In response, Fury slid the folder back toward him, fingers drumming the table afterward.  "Hunting for this mystical relic _is_ helping the country," he said.  "Try reading more than one page this time."

               Though Tony was still suspicious about anything involving Fury, he picked the folder up again anyway, flipping past the first page—a description of a stone fragment purported to have great powers (which, frankly, sounded like most things he had hunted down in his day)—to see a write-up on why this was suddenly significant to the United States.  "So you want this because the Nazis want it," he said when he was done skimming.  "So what?  They want a lot of things.  They go on wild goose chases all the time."

               "They do," Fury replied.  "The difference is that this time, we know it's real, and we know it has some sort of power.  Keep reading."

               Tony flipped through the next few pages, then rolled his eyes and put the folder back down.  "Not much to read when everything's been blacked out," he said.

               Fury almost smiled.  Almost.  "The point is, we know things, and it's been documented, even if you're not on the need-to-know list.  But it's fine.  You need more than what this folder is giving you.  That's why I have this."  He reached into his jacket, then set a small jar on the table.

               Surprised, Tony leaned closer, peering at it.  The item inside looked just like what had been described in the folder—a golden-colored, banded stone, maybe tiger's-eye.  It was shaped like an arc, but the edges were ragged, as though there was more to it that had been broken off.  Tony couldn't help think that although it was as pretty as a broken piece of polished tiger's-eye could be, it looked exceedingly ordinary.  "This is it?" he asked.

               "It's it _right now_ ," Fury replied.  "It's your job to get the other pieces—however many there are—and put this back together before the Nazis do.  We got this piece by luck, and they don't know we have it yet.  I want to keep our advantage for as long as we can."

               Tony drew back, looking over at Fury.  "And this whole thing—it's government sponsored?"

               Fury nodded, and Tony thought about Rhodey, currently stationed in France; about Jarvis, managing his affairs while he was spending so much time at the Rad Lab; about Pepper, a war correspondent in the Pacific theatre.  "How many strings can you pull?"

               "A lot."

               "Then let's pull them."

 

*

 

Jarvis and Tony arrived in London the next day, with Rhodey coming in that evening.  Tony wasn't sure what about him made Rhodey ask if Tony wanted to share a bed that night, but whatever it was, he was grateful: it wasn't until he curled up with Rhodey under the sheets that he realized how lonely he had been feeling, and how good it was to see Rhodey again, alive and well.

               Pepper was flown in two days later, full of tales of the things she'd seen while traveling with the Navy, but there was a darkness in her eyes that hadn't been there the last time Tony had met up with her.  "You don't have to come along on this treasure hunt," Tony told her.  "You could go back to the States.  Get some rest."

               But Pepper just shook her head, putting her hand against Tony's arm.  "If this wasn't important, you wouldn't have asked me to come," she said.  "And if I hadn't come, I would have stayed in the Pacific and kept on reporting.  Those are the only two places I should be right now.  Don't tell me otherwise."

               "Attagirl," Tony said quietly, and Pepper smiled.

               And like that, his crew was assembled.  Tony gathered them all together in a room, laying out the additional materials that Fury had provided him after he'd agreed to the mission.  There wasn't much, but there was enough to get started.

               "This is mostly for Miss Potts' convenience," Tony announced to the people assembled there.  "Since she saw fit to come so very, very late."

               Pepper cleared her throat.  "Have your supersonic plane fly me over so I won't be late next time," she said.

               "Working on it," Tony replied briskly.  He clapped his hands together, then looked around.  "So, as all of you know, we've been cleared—by the _United States government_ —to go back to our old, magical-artifact-searching ways.  The problem is, this time the Nazis are also in on it, and if they beat us to it terrible things will happen.  Probably."

               "This sounds exactly like what happened last time," Rhodey pointed out.

               "And we won last time, so we should definitely try to repeat that part," Tony said.  He then reached down to pick up some of the papers, brandishing them at the others.  "These," he continued, "are reports written by Li Ji, Chinese archaeologist.  Until 1937, he was in central China uncovering one of its historic capitals, Yinxu.  His team left when the Japanese invaded, and no one's been looking there since.  Which is a shame for him, because he documented evidence that there was a particular item that was being worshipped, but he was unable to find the item itself before they had to evacuate."

               Tony set the reports down, then picked up a glossy, annotated photo.  "Oracle bones," he announced.  "The ancient Chinese would write questions to the gods on bones and tortoise shells, then burn them and figure out the gods' responses based on how they cracked."

               Pepper leaned closer, frowning.  "That's not Chinese," she said.

               "It's something else," Tony agreed.  "A precursor to modern Chinese.  A lot of it is still undeciphered.  Luckily for us, the bone in this photo _is_ translated.  Unluckily for us, it looked like useless drivel.  But luckily for us again, it's _not_ drivel."

               Jarvis moved his hand in a _get on with it_ motion.

               Tony tapped the picture.  "On its own, the text here doesn't mean much, just that one day whoever was in charge decided to move some things around.  Combined with the knowledge of our friend here—" he motioned toward the thing that looked like tiger's-eye, still sitting in its jar on the table—"which is _not_ something most people have, we get something that start to approach sense.  This bone talks about something tiger-colored and circle-shaped, split into three, and references the cities of Qufu, Yinxu, and Xi'an, historical capitals during the Shang and Zhou dynasties."  He motioned toward the gem again, adding, "Apparently, this piece we have was found on the body of a collaborationist Chinese soldier trying to smuggle it to the Nazis, and all signs point to it being uncovered in Qufu."

               "So let me get this straight," Rhodey said.  "We're making the assumption that the item mentioned in the bone writing is actually a third of the item we have with us right now, because—"  He looked at the annotations next to the characters on the oracle bone photo.  "—Tiger-circle-three, apparently.  If that's true, and if this piece was found in one of those capitals, then it would imply the other two pieces are hidden in the other two capitals."

               "And you think the reports written by the archeologist digging in Yinxu confirm that something of interest is there for sure," Pepper added.

               Rhodey crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair.  "Tiger circles aren't enough to go by, Tony."

               "Ye of little faith," Tony lamented.  They'd gone looking for things with a lot less evidence in the past, and it always—well, mostly—turned out fine.  But that wasn't the argument he had to pull out now, fortunately.  What he _did_ pull out were more photographs.  "This is an inscription found in Qufu.  See these two characters?  Same tiger-circle combination as the oracle bones from Yinxu.  And what's more—"  He shuffled the photos to display still more examples of the oracle bone script.  "These are other instances in which the characters for tiger and/or circle appear.  But these are written differently.  Simpler.  _Our_ tiger circle has deliberate line weights and more curves in the strokes.  It's a proper noun."

               He straightened after that, glancing around the room.  Rhodey looked contemplative.  Pepper was staring at the photos.  Jarvis was drumming his fingers against his arm.  "You've been quiet, J," Tony said.

               Jarvis rolled his shoulders.  "Your archeologist friend evacuated because of the Japanese, and we're looking for something the Nazis are also hunting."

               "That's right."

               "And the Japanese will still be in this capital city you've been blathering about, and for all we know the Nazis will wind up there too."

               Tony raised an eyebrow.  "Also correct."

               "So we might get into a fight with people who have committed war crimes."

               "Are you scared, Jarvis?" Tony asked.

               Jarvis let out a bark of laughter, cracking his knuckles.  "That alone is reason to go.  It's our patriotic duty."

               "Then I'm glad you're in," Tony replied.  He turned his gaze to the other two.  "Rhodey?  Pepper?"

               Rhodey tsked softly.  "It can't be worse than the time we mounted an expedition because of a trap planted by your ex-girlfriend who was also a Nazi sympathizer," he mused.  "It's enough to go on."

               "So when do we leave?" Pepper asked.

               Tony beamed at them all.  "Tonight," he said.

               "Hold it."

               Collectively, the four of them froze for a second, then turned to the door.  It now stood open, Fury standing in the doorway looking unfairly majestic.

               "General," Rhodey said, inclining his head slightly.

               "Sergeant," Fury replied as he nodded back.  "I couldn't help but overhear the tail end of your conversation."

               _Couldn't help but overhear_ seemed highly unlikely, but Tony decided not to comment on it.  "And?" he pressed.

               "And you're missing a person."

               Tony looked around.  Himself, Jarvis, Rhodey, Pepper.  They were all here.  He had a feeling he wasn't going to like where this was going.  "No, we're not," he said in an attempt to stave off the inevitable.

               Fury turned away, looking at someone outside the room.  "Captain," he called.

               _Captain?_ Tony thought at the same time Pepper finished, "—America?" in an incredulous voice.

               It was.  It actually was.  A man in a star-spangled suit strode into the room, carrying a shield Tony remembered having design input on.  This was unreal.  Even as someone who spent most of his time in the States, he'd still heard plenty of tales of the man with a plan, the soldier who'd punched Hitler in the face hundreds of times.  And here he was now, standing right in front of them in the flesh.

               "This is Captain America," Fury confirmed—needlessly, Tony thought, since it was pretty obvious everyone in the room recognized him.  "This is a government-sponsored mission.  Captain America here will be providing _us_ with reports and _you_ with assistance as the fifth member of your party."

               That managed to kick Tony's brain into gear again, and he quickly shook his head.  "No," he said.  They didn't need a fifth member, especially not one who was going to be feeding Fury info about what they were all doing, no matter how many tales he'd heard of Captain America's heroics.  "Can I veto?  I'm vetoing."

               "You can't veto, Stark."

               "Don't be so hard on Fury," Captain America cut in, speaking up for the first time.  "It was my idea."

               Tony's mouth just about fell open at that, and for a moment, he could do nothing but stare blankly at the other man.  "Your idea," he repeated at last.  Captain America… had known about this mission and actively wanted to participate?

               "Yes," said Captain America.

               Well, Tony didn't know how to respond to that.

               "Sounds like it's settled," Fury said, turning away.  "I look forward to the five of you securing the artifact."  With that, he swept off, and even Jarvis, the gruffest of the lot, could do nothing but watch Fury walk away with a gobsmacked expression on his face.

 

*

 

"Good cloud cover," Jarvis announced as the airship continued its course east.  "Should be smooth sailing over Europe."

               The Japanese would be the most immediate threat once they landed, and Jarvis had wanted to minimize that risk by avoiding the Chinese coast, where most of the soldiers would be gathered.  In any case, it was a lot faster to approach Yinxu from this direction, and if the Nazis were also looking for the other pieces, then time was of the essence.

               "Thanks, J," Tony replied before turning his attention back to Captain America, who Tony had decided to start calling "Cap" in his head.  "Captain America" was such a mouthful.  "So," he said, "are you really going to be wearing that cowl and costume the whole time?  Don't we get the right to know who you really are?"

               Cap shrugged.  "You don't have the clearance," he said.  "And anyway, it doesn't really matter who I am."

               "But I don't have anything to call you besides 'Cap'," Tony protested.  "That's not a quality I prefer in the people I work with."

               There was a pause, and for a moment Tony was hopeful Cap was going to give in.  Only a moment, though.  "…'Cap'?" Cap repeated, his lips quirking up in a tiny smile.  Tony thought it might have been the first one he'd seen from Cap so far, though admittedly there wasn't much to smile about in their previous interactions, since it had mostly involved Tony reiterating once again his findings about the oracle bone inscriptions.

               "It's short for Captain America," Tony explained.

               The eyeroll Cap did in response was almost contained.  Almost.  "I figured that out," he said.  "'Cap' is fine."

               "'Cap' isn't a name."

               "It is now," Cap said.  So much for trying to pry any personal information out of him, Tony thought.  Cap, meanwhile, drummed his fingers idly against the table before continuing, "Can you show me the fragment we already have?"

               "Sure."  Tony dug out the small jar and offered it to Cap, who took it and peered inside.  "It's not much, I know," Tony added.  "Looks like it'll only be the size of a ring, and we only have a third of it right now."

               Cap turned the jar around.  "Mind if I take it out?"

               Tony shrugged.  He'd already tried playing around with it, both with and without gloves, and despite the pages of classified documents about its supposed dangers, nothing had happened.  If it did have any effect, it wasn't one that was choosing to show itself to him.

               "Thanks," Cap said politely, as though Tony had given him a more salient answer than just a shrug.  He opened the jar, pried it out of the foam, and held it in one red-gloved hand.  It looked spectacularly ordinary.

               "Well?" Tony pressed, just in case Cap had some sort of interesting observation to provide.

               "Well, it looks like a rock," Cap said, and Tony couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter.  "But…"

               Cap trailed off.  Tony stared at him expectantly for a moment, but when nothing came, he prodded, "But?"

               "Nothing," Cap said, though he was frowning a little.  Despite that, it didn't seem like an explanation was forthcoming.  He put the fragment back into the foam and handed Tony the jar, which Tony pocketed.  "So what's the plan once we arrive in Yinxu?"

               Tony snorted.  "You're just like Pepper, aren't you?"

               "Hm?"

               "You want all the details upfront," Tony said.  "No mystery.  No discovery."

               "My job isn't to uncover mysteries, Mr. Stark," Cap replied.

               Tony leaned back in his chair.  "Right.  Your job is to fight the bad guys, from what I heard."  When Cap didn't immediately voice an objection, Tony continued, "So I gotta ask, what are you doing here?  Seems like you'd do a lot more good staying in Europe—and yet you yourself said coming along was your idea."

               "Ah," said Cap, and was it just Tony, or did he suddenly look a little nervous?  "Well.  Maybe I was just trying to get you off of Fury's back."

               Tony rolled his eyes.  "And maybe I don't believe you," he said.

               "So suspicious," Cap chided.  "You're really doubting Captain America?"

               "If I doubt myself, why wouldn't I doubt everyone else?" Tony asked before immediately regretting it.  The fact that he'd had a lot of doubts about himself since the war started was probably not a thing he wanted to broadcast, especially not to someone who was in close contact with Fury.

               Thankfully, Cap didn't pry, even though Tony was pretty sure he'd filed that verbal misstep away.  "Either way," he said, "as someone who's spent time dealing with the Nazis, I know first-hand how dangerous they can be, and it's in everyone's best interest to make sure that they don't get what they want.  So.  What do we do once we get to Yinxu?"

               That was some pretty obvious deflecting, but Tony decided to let it go.  He was starting to get the irritating feeling that there would be a lot of letting things go where Cap was involved.  "Okay," he said, even though it would have been more expedient to have the others here as well, but Pepper and Rhodey were already sleeping.  "Well, we won't be able to form a detailed plan until we actually get there and see what it's like for ourselves.  The area as a whole is occupied by the Japanese, but the specific area we're interested in is an evacuated dig site, not a populated town.  There isn't much reason for anyone to be there, Chinese, Japanese, or otherwise."

               "Unless someone else happens to be searching for the next fragment too," Cap said.

               "Right," said Tony.  "So we'll have to see for ourselves.  Our immediate plan of action will be to disembark the airship west of the site, where there's a mountain range that should give us cover.  Jarvis will stay on board and keep her in the sky once the rest of us are off.  We'll proceed by foot for the rest of the way—Rhodey will lead here, since traipsing through the wilderness is his thing.  When we arrive, we'll see.  If the Japanese are around, Pepper takes lead.  She's been reporting on Japanese activity for ages, and I trust her more than myself to know what to do with them.  Otherwise we'll start looking."

               Cap opened his mouth to speak, and, anticipating what was coming, Tony immediately added, "And _you_ will defer to all of us.  It wasn't my choice to have you come, and the fact that you're here to report to Fury doesn't exactly fill me with glee.  But if you see any Nazis, then yes, Cap, you can punch them."

               "Gee, thanks," Cap replied dryly.  "You know I could pull rank on any of you?"

               "And will you?" countered Tony.  It was strange, but he felt… oddly comfortable around Cap.  He still wasn't thrilled about Cap being forced onto them—he probably would have felt better about it if he'd been able to make a choice.  Still, he got the feeling that Cap did want to make sure the mission went smoothly.

               There was a pause.  "No," Cap said at last, even if it sounded like he hated to admit it.  "…Not yet, anyway."

               Tony snorted.  He had to admire Cap being so upfront.  "Well, let me know when you plan on rebelling."  He yawned then, standing up and sticking his hands in his pockets.  It was day one of their mission, and there was something he still had to take care of.  "For now, I'm going to bed.  Good night, Cap."

               Cap didn't respond, watching him go in silence.

 

*

 

_"…won't know until we get there.  But all accounts point to it being a castle in the mountaintops."_

_Steve had been waiting for Tony to return to the camp—it's the first night of their expedition, after all, and they should rest while they can—but when Tony doesn't return, Steve goes looking.  He's surprised to find Tony sitting in a small clearing, illuminated by and talking to a small, flickering candle._

_Tony doesn't look particularly secretive, and Steve doesn't want to sneak off, which feels dishonest, so instead he slowly circles around so that Tony can see him, then sits down a few feet away.  Tony acknowledges his presence with a nod but keeps on speaking to the candle.  It almost seems like Tony's talking about their next mission, but the details have been molded and spun, making it seem more fantastical than it really is._

_"Give me a hell of a story," Tony finishes, and then he puts out the candle._

_The action was sudden, but Steve's eyes adjust quickly in the darkness, and he blinks slowly at Tony.  It's up to Tony, he decides, on whether or not he wants to give any details._

_"Sorry," Tony says, his voice quiet.  "Putting the candle out is part of the ritual."_

_"I didn't know you had any rituals."_

_Tony gets up and makes his way over to Steve, sitting down beside him.  "There's probably a lot you don't know about me.  But I hope you'll get a chance to learn."_

_"Tell me about this, then," Steve urges._

_Even in the darkness, Steve can see Tony's eyes go distant.  "I had a guy writing for me once before Pepper came along, back when I did_ Marvels _."_

_"Virgil," Steve says.  "I remember his work."_

_Tony glances at him and smiles, then looks back into the woods.  "Then you'll remember he died.  It was years ago, but I still think of him often.  I knew him for so long."  His gaze drops down to the candle, and Steve thinks he can still make out a wisp of smoke coming out from it.  "Sometimes, these thoughts make me indulge in a terrible pun.  I hold a candlelight vigil.  A vigil for Virgil.  And I tell him what I'm going to get up to, and I give him some details—but only a few.  Only enough to get him excited, and nothing more.  He hates being spoiled, so putting out the candle is my way of stopping myself from giving away too much.  But it's enough for him to start his next story.”_

_"It's nice of you to remember him," Steve replies softly._

_It's so easy to think of Tony as the fearless adventurer, the brilliant inventor, that it's frequenly forgotten that he's as human as the rest of them.  The omission is purposeful, Steve feels—if_ Marvels _were still published today, he doesn't think a scene like this would have made it in.  But Tony let Steve see this part of him, and for that he is grateful._

_Tony's lips curve upward again, but it seems a little more forced this time.  "I replay that moment often," he says eventually.  "The moment where he gets shot.  It feels so avoidable.  I should have seen it coming, but I didn't.  I let him die."_

_"There's no way you could have known what would have happened."_

_"Isn't there?" Tony counters.  "They call me the futurist.  And the truth is, I think in that moment I knew what was going to happen.  All the pieces were there.  But I did nothing, and now he's gone."_

_Steve shakes his head, then wraps his arm around Tony and pulls him close.  Tony doesn't fight it.  "If you had really known what was going to happen," he says, "you would have stopped it.  I know you would have.  You would have stopped it even at the expense of your own life."_

_The words aren't empty.  It's something Steve believes lies at the core of Tony Stark, and the certainty of that knowledge still sends shivers down Steve's spine every time he remembers it._

 

*

 

The first hour or so that they spent walking on Chinese—or Japanese if the Axis powers were to be believed, though Tony wasn't inclined to do so—soil was eventless for the most part, filled with heavy breaths as Rhodey led them down the mountain and through the dense underbrush.  They'd tried, unsuccessfully, to see Yinxu proper from their vantage point, but the air was heavy and humid, and Tony knew better than to try to make any assumptions when the hot air was playing tricks on their eyes.  For now, the plan was the same as before: to get there first, and _then_ make a plan based on what they found.  Whatever the plan was, though, it couldn't involve their suits, which had been left on the airship with Jarvis.  The Iron Man and War Machine outfits were too heavy to carry for long periods of time, and in any case, their goal was to find something, not to fight other people.

               At last, they emerged from the trees and onto a gravel road that didn't look as though it had seen any recent use.  Still, just because the area _looked_ deserted didn't mean it was, so they kept to the side of the road, eyes peeled for any movement.

               Progress came soon enough.  The crumbling remains of what were most likely rammed-earth buildings came into view, and they were still the only people around, as far as Tony could tell.  Feeling grateful, he paused, which forced everyone else to stop in their tracks as well.  "Before we go any further, I want everyone to appreciate the enormity of what we're about to step into," he said.  "This is the place where the oracle bones we've been looking at were discovered, which proved the existence of a dynasty and is one of the earliest examples of Chinese writing.  That alone is impressive.  But this was also once a capital city, and it's big.  Really big.  Only part of it has been excavated, and it's probably not the part that has what we're looking for.  We have our work cut out for us."

               "So what's the plan, Tony?" Rhodey asked.

               Tony looked around at them.  "There are four of us," he said.  "Three of us should split up and start searching.  The fourth person should keep watch.  No one seems to be around for now, but this is wartime.  We should be careful."

               "I'll keep watch," Cap offered.  "You three have done this before.  I think you'll have a better eye for it."

               It was an astute observation, and Tony was both surprised and pleased that Cap had put it forward.  "You're not wrong," he said.  "Alright.  We're all still carrying our transceivers, right?  No one lost theirs on the way over?  Replacements cost extra."  Rhodey rolled his eyes, which was a good enough sign for Tony to continue on.  "If Cap sees trouble, he'll send out the distress signal.  As long as we're not too far away, our transceivers will start vibrating out SOS."  He had to admit, the idea was something he was pretty proud of.  It was quieter than audio and wouldn't force the receiver to have to pay constant attention like they would have if it were visual.  "If that happens, we regroup and go from there.  Hopefully, that doesn't actually happen.  What I'd prefer is that one of us finds something useful, and we send the signal for _that_ out.  Then the three of us searching will regroup there and continue.  All clear?"

               Everyone nodded.  Tony drew back from the huddle they'd unintentionally formed, looking around.  "Cap, you stay here.  Rhodey, head north.  Pepper, south.  I'll keep going east.  Stay within sight of one another at all times."

               "And what exactly should we be looking for?" Pepper asked.

               Tony rubbed his forehead.  That was the hard part.  He'd spent a lot of time staring at the translated oracle bones, but without any good reference images or maps of Yinxu it was difficult to associate any potential places mentioned with locations in the city.  Even being here now wasn't as helpful as he had hoped—there was so much to cover, and he could already tell from a quick look around that there were several spots that would need investigation.  Still, they had to try.  "We know it was buried in a tomb," he said.  "Most likely an important person's tomb, because this was an important artifact.  Assuming the place is structured like other cities from this era, it means there was an ancestral shrine built on top.  The shrine probably won't exist anymore, but the base of it should.  If we can find one that was rounded—a circle—that's a big clue."

               "Let's go, then," Rhodey said.

               And so they split up, each heading in their assigned direction, with Cap staying where he was.  Tony jogged around the parts that were already excavated, only slowing down to examine the occasional remains to see if they seemed relevant.

               They weren't.  Hours passed, and Tony could feel his clothes soaking through with sweat as he moved around in the heat.  They'd already had to regroup more than once in order to remain in sight of each other, and morale was slowly sinking.  By nightfall, nothing had changed, and they set up camp near the remains of what seemed like the main palace as they attempted to put the day's woes out of mind.  Archeology was a slow process, Tony told himself as he laid on top of his sleeping bag that night, wishing it were cooler.  Just because they hadn't found what they were looking for didn't mean it wasn't there.

               He continued to tell himself that until he fell asleep.

 

*

 

_Tonight's one of those nights where Steve doesn't think he can coax Tony away from his work—not with words, anyway.  Luckily, he doesn't need words for this.  He just comes in, settles down beside Tony, and eases his hand into Tony's hair._

_"Damn it, Steve," Tony murmurs, and Steve smiles at the soft sound of Tony's voice.  "This is unfair.  You know I can't resist this."_

_"Why do you think I'm doing it?" Steve asks._

_Tony groans and half-heartedly leans away.  "I… I gotta work," he says, but the exhaustion Steve knows he's feeling is finally making its way into his voice.  Steve waits, and sure enough Tony leans back into his touch, as though Steve is a magnet and Tony can't help but be drawn to him._

 

*

 

"Mr. Stark."

               Tony woke up with a start, a flurry of confused thoughts all fluttering through his head simultaneously.  It took a second, but finally the more rational thoughts came to the forefront—he let out a breath, recognizing that while being woken up suddenly was unexpected, he likely wasn't in danger if whoever had woken him had done so by saying his name.  Still, a few more seconds had to pass before he could bring himself to open his eyes, blinking up at the shape looming above him in the pre-dawn light.  "…Cap?" he managed at last.  What the hell was Cap doing in his tent?  It was too early to head out yet.

               "Yeah," the shape whispered.  Now that Tony's eyes were adjusting, he could make out the familiar little wings on Cap's cowl.  "Sorry.  I didn't mean to startle you."

               "Right," Tony replied groggily.  He wanted to go back to sleep, but obviously that wasn't going to happen right now, if it was at all, so he pushed himself up onto his elbows.  "Consider that an area of improvement.  Why are you here?"

               It was hard to tell, but Cap looked… confused?  Which was odd, since Cap was the one who'd taken the initiative to let himself into Tony's tent.  "I wanted to see the fragment."

               That woke Tony up some, if only because it was so out of left field.  "Now?  What time is it?"

               "Four in the morning," Cap said.  "Please?"

               "'Please'," Tony repeated.  God.  Was Cap even real?  "Alright.  Alright.  Let me… find it."  He managed to sit up, pulling his pack toward him and reaching inside.  Once he found the jar, he tossed it to Cap, who caught it.  "If you ask me, it looks exactly the same as it did before."

               Cap, undeterred, opened the jar and pulled the fragment out of the foam so he could dump it onto his palm.  "Look."

               It didn't look like anything Tony hadn't already seen.  Before he could say as much, though, Cap shook his head and said, "Keep looking."  Then he started walking in a small circle, though he kept his hand outstretched, his palm serving as the center he was rotating around.

               And the fragment… it _moved_.  Or rather, it _didn't_ move—even though Cap was moving, the fragment was still oriented the same way it was at the beginning, the broken edges pointing in the same direction as before.  Tony scrambled to his feet, staring at it.  "The _hell_?" he said.  It hadn't been doing this before; he was sure of it.  But it was hard to deny what he was seeing right now.

               "I… think it may be attracted to the other pieces," Cap offered as he stopped moving around.  "It wants to be put back together.  And it's acting this way now because one of the pieces must be close by."

               "And _you_ came up with this because…?" Tony asked as he hastened to pack everything up.  Now that he had an actionable lead, he didn't want to wait.

               Cap looked confused again, shrugging after a moment.  "It was a hunch," he said.

               "Jesus," Tony muttered.  "That's a hell of a hunch.  But I'll pick your brain later.  Can you wake Pepper and Rhodey and ask them to get ready?  I'll meet you outside."

               "Sure," Cap said, and he disappeared through the tent flap.

               Soon enough, everyone was ready and assembled, everything packed up and stowed away in their backpacks.  "So let's see this magnet rock," Rhodey said.  It seemed as though Cap had already clued them in on the new development, but hadn't yet actually shown it to them.

               Cap cupped his hand loosely, then held it out and shook it, as though he were rolling dice.  When he uncurled his fingers, they could all see it—the fragment spun around, reorienting itself on its own.

               "Damn," murmured Rhodey.

               Pepper leaned over to gape at it.  "So if you're right, and it's trying to connect with a nearby piece, then we should be heading in the direction the edges point in…?"

               "I think so," Cap said.  "Mr. Stark?"

               "Sounds reasonable to me," Tony said.  "Let's go."

               They headed off, Cap leading the way as he walked forward with his non-shield arm held out.  For a moment, Tony considered taking the fragment back from Cap—he was fairly sure the fragment orienting itself wasn't dependent on who was holding it—but it felt wrong.  It was Cap's discovery, and he should be the one to see it through.

               It took two more hours, at which point Tony could tell they were nearly on the outskirts of the city, but finally Cap slowed down, walking around in a circle before turning to face them.  "This is the place," he said.

               Tony glanced around.  The sun had risen by now, so there was plenty of light to go by.  "It matches what we know," he said as he took a few steps around the area.  "The building that used to stand here was circular, going by the foundation that's still here.  Somewhere inside should be an entrance that leads underground to the tomb.  Spread out and look."

               They fanned out, eyes on the ground to spot anything of interest.  It was Pepper who found it, pushing hard at a rock that might have once been engraved with something, but now looked as weathered and worn as every other rock around them.  "Need some help here."

               Cap stepped in at that point, helping her to push it aside—and sure enough, there was an outline of what seemed to be a door in the ground.  With a glance at Tony, Cap reached down for the handle, pulling it up with a loud creak that reverberated in the silence.  They gathered around the exposed entrance afterward, peering inside as Rhodey brought out his flashlight and shined it downward.  There was no sign of movement, only a dusty set of stairs that led to what seemed like a large room underground.

               "So are we gonna just stand around, or go in?" Pepper asked finally.  "Because I want to go in.  Don't wait up."  Turning on her own flashlight, she headed down the stairs, the rest of them following after her.

               It was definitely a tomb.  That was good, because it continued to corroborate what Tony knew, but it was also bad because no matter how many tombs Tony had explored during his days of doing _Marvels_ , he would never be fully comfortable with them.  Maybe because they reminded him of his own mortality.  Or maybe because they were just damn creepy.  Probably a mix of both.

               "There are bones everywhere," Rhodey commented, voice strained as his flashlight moved along the edges of the walls, which were lined with skeletons.  At least Tony wasn't alone in his discomfort.

               "Human sacrifice?" Pepper suggested.  "This place is loaded with grave goods.  The guy buried here must have been important."

               While they were talking, Cap had silently moved further into the room, staring at the far end.  The distance was too great for Tony to make it out clearly, but he could see enough to tell that there was another skeleton there, this one on a raised surface.  Given its prominence, it was obvious that this was the person the tomb was built for.  "Not a guy," Tony said, blinking as the notes he'd read from Li Ji came together.  "A woman."

               "A woman?" Rhodey pressed, intrigued.

               Tony wished he'd brought his notes with him, though rationally he knew it would have been silly to plan to take reams of oracle bone photos along, and in any case, he'd memorized most of it already.  Still.  "The oracle bones talk about a woman named Fu Hao.  She was one of the wives of a ruling king, but more importantly, she was both a general and high priestess.  Both were unusual for a woman at the time, so for her to even be one or the other implied that she must have been extraordinary.  And we know that the people asking the gods questions with the oracle bones did so with the help of our friend the tiger circle, and we also know _as of this very moment_ that a tiger circle fragment is right here in this tomb, not including the piece we brought with us.  It would make sense if it were buried with her, one of the most prominent diviners of their time."

               "Wait," Pepper said, suddenly sounding nervous.  "I did some reading too, and I remember coming across her.  Didn't some of the translations mention how her resting place would be well-guarded, and that—"

               "Down!" Rhodey shouted, just as they heard a distinctive _twang_ sound.

               Tony ducked on instinct, but he looked up in time to see Rhodey launching himself toward Cap, who had wandered deeper into the room—there was a flash of _something_ , but Rhodey had knocked Cap to the ground, and the thing sailed harmlessly over their heads before hitting the other wall.

               "…And that multiple scholars took that to mean her tomb was booby trapped," Pepper finished weakly from the floor, having thrown herself down as well.

               "Shit," said Rhodey.

               Tony squeezed his eyes shut, trying to catch his breath, then opened them back up and pushed himself off the ground.  He hated surprises.  Well, he liked them if he knew they were coming, but despite having done the same reading as Pepper, this had been way too sudden for his tastes.

               He turned to look at Cap.  "What the hell was that?" he asked.  He was pretty sure that whatever had tried to kill them just now was triggered by something Cap did.

               "I—" Cap began as he got up, but Rhodey motioned him to scoot back toward the group before he stood fully.  When he moved, it became obvious that the tile he'd stepped on was slightly sunken—his weight must have triggered the trap.  "I don't have a good excuse.  I'm sorry."

               Pepper nudged Tony, then cast a meaningful glance down at Cap's clenched hand.  He immediately understood what she was trying to imply, then felt foolish for not seeing it himself earlier.  "It's fine," he said, then brought out the empty jar, holding it out to Cap.  "Do you want to put the piece back?"  He wasn't sure what was going on with the fragment, but he thought that maybe it being in close proximity with another fragment while Cap was holding onto it was messing with Cap's head somehow.  Better safe than sorry, in any case.

               Cap looked hesitant.  Eventually, though, he nodded, pushing it back into the foam and leaning away.  "You'd better call the shots here," he said.  But he smiled right after, and it made Tony feel better after he had seemed so dazed just a moment earlier.  "You've done this before, after all."

               "Damn right I have."  Tony carefully made his way to the thing that had nearly went through Cap's head, pulling a pair of gloves out of a pocket and sliding them on before picking the item up.  "It's an arrow," he said, the light of his flashlight sweeping along the far wall.  "Some of the tiles on the floor must be triggering… I don't know.  Crossbows, I guess?  There's almost certainly more than one of these lying in wait."

               "And let me guess, the tiger circle piece we're searching for is probably sitting near Fu Hao's skeleton… all the way on the far side of the room," Rhodey said.  "Great."

               "If the crossbows are along the walls, I could use the shield to disable them from a distance," Cap suggested.

               "Whoa, whoa," Tony said quickly, holding up his hands.  "Cap, I have a Ming dynasty vase sitting at home in New York.  That thing is priceless.  Do you know when the Ming dynasty was active?  From about the 1300s to the 1600s.  And you know when the Shang dynasty ruled?  Something like those dates, but with a BC attached to the year.  If a shield—even Captain America's shield—smashed into my vase, let me tell you, I would be pretty cross.  And that goes double for all the weapons and statues and pottery in here.  Archaeology is by nature a destructive science, but that doesn't mean we can't make every effort to mitigate that destruction."

               Cap stared at him, and Tony found himself regretting the lecture.  "Uh, sorry," he added hastily.  "I just—"

               "No," Cap cut in, still staring wide-eyed at him.  "That was real enlightening.  Thanks."

               Ha.  That was funny—Cap almost seemed _impressed_ by his little speech.  For God's sake, the man was Captain America.  Tony had heard stories about him, and they weren't even from magazines of men's adventures.  He found himself wondering again what the hell a man like Cap—a leader on the battlefield, a master of military tactics—was doing _here_ , on a small adventure that so far hadn't even involved glimpsing an enemy soldier.  This wasn't his arena, but here he was.  Tony found himself irrationally fearing humiliating himself in front of the man, but that was a stupid thought, and he pushed it away quickly.

               "Right," he made himself reply, once he'd remembered that it was probably his turn to say something.  "So.  Rigged tiles and arrows.  Since we don't want to die, we're going to have to figure out which tiles are safe and which ones aren't."

               "There might be a way," Rhodey said from the floor, where he was still sitting near the tile Cap had triggered.  He motioned them closer, then shone his flashlight along the row of tiles that included the rigged one.  Tony realized now that Rhodey had dusted some of them.  "Take a look.  The tiles in the entrance—the ones we've mostly been standing on—are plain.  But starting with this row, and probably continuing until where the skeleton is, the tiles have patterns along the edges.  They're thin, and the dust is obscuring a lot of the markings, but they're there.  But most importantly—"  He jabbed at two of the tiles with his brush.  "The pattern seems to be the same for each tile, but they have different characters engraved into the top right corner.  That might be a clue as to which tiles are safe and which ones aren't."

               Tony leaned forward to get a better view.  "The tile that triggered the arrow says—Lian, I think.  It was the given name of one of the Shang kings.  The one next to it says horse.  And the next one is Song.  Another name."

               "That was a lot less helpful than I thought it'd be," Rhodey commented dryly.

               "There might still be something to this," Tony said.  "Let's see the rest."

               Soon after, the entire row was dusted and translated.  Tony hadn't seen fit to bring the oracle bone glossary, but Pepper, bless her, had—and though there were some words they couldn't attach a meaning to, they were able to figure out most of them, and Tony thought that there could actually be a pattern.  "This is the only tile in the row that _isn't_ marked with a king's name, as far as we know," he said, pointing to the one with the horse character on it.  "I'm thinking it might be a safe tile."

               Pepper tilted her head.  "I can see that," she said.  "The ancestors guard her tomb.  So their tiles are the ones that shoot the arrows."

               "Only one way to find out, right?" Tony asked.  Before anyone could raise an objection, he stepped forward, planting himself firmly on the tile.

               Nothing happened.

               "Damn it, Tony," Rhodey muttered from behind him.

               "Hey, I'm alive, aren't I?" Tony said.  "All's well.  Give me the brush and I'll keep going."  He turned around in time to see Rhodey roll his eyes, but the brush was nonetheless pressed into his hand, and so he carefully crouched down, starting to dust off the tiles he could reach.  Eventually he was able to settle into a pattern—step onto a tile, dust the nearby tiles, translate the characters (or awkwardly describe the characters out loud to Pepper so she could try looking them up), step onto the next safe tile, and repeat.

               He was over halfway through the room when he ran into a problem.

               There were still several rows ahead of him, enough that he couldn't jump over them.  And the old routine of dusting the tiles and translating them hit a snag at the translation part—he was now surrounded by tiles that he could see but not read, and Pepper had been unable to find any matching characters in the documents she'd brought.  In short, he had no idea which tile was safe.

               "So," he announced to Pepper, Rhodey, and Cap, who were all still waiting behind him with varying levels of anxiety.  "I think it's time to take some risks."

               "Uh, no," Rhodey said, but Tony wasn't listening.  He inched a foot forward, then carefully pressed down on the tile right in front of him with his toes.  Somewhat predictably, an arrow came whizzing out, this one at a much lower height than the one that had nearly hit Cap.  Great.  That meant no crawling the rest of the way, not if he couldn't guarantee that the arrows wouldn't just whiz right over his head.  Out of curiosity, he tapped the tile again, and a second arrow came out—that was intriguing, that the crossbows or whatever could reload—but he wasn't in a position to investigate.

               Instead, he tried some of the other adjacent tiles, carefully triggering them with his toes.  Finally he found one that seemed safe, albeit awkwardly positioned from his current spot.  But as soon as he started stepping over to it, a loud, pulsing sound issued from aboveground, enough that Tony could feel the vibration in his bones, and he found himself losing his balance—

 

*

 

_"He's back in Europe?" Steve asks, gaze flickering over to Fury._

_Fury takes a long drag from his cigarette and blows the smoke out into the wind.  "Europe's a big place, Rogers.  A lot of people are here.  Doesn't mean you're gonna see them."_

_Steve looks back down at the mission briefing.  He knows it doesn't mean he's going to see Tony.  Tony still doesn't want to see him, after all; that hasn't changed.  But it does mean that Tony is back in danger, back on the front lines when before, Steve could at least console himself with the fact that Tony was in relative safety back at the Rad Lab.  For a fleeting instant, he almost considers seeking Tony out just to goad him into going back to the States, but he knows it will never work.  If Tony's here, he has a reason, and he's not going to run away from it._

_There's nothing, then, that Steve can do with this knowledge.  Nothing but grip the mission briefing a little more tightly to himself and whisper, "Be safe, Tony," soft enough that Fury cannot hear._

 

*

 

A lot of things seemed to happen all at once.

               Pepper's scream was overshadowed by someone else shouting " _No!_ ", and even that was overshadowed by the more alarming sound of multiple _twangs_ going off at the same time.  Tony was aware of his body hitting the ground, pushing the tiles down and triggering even more _twangs_ , and it was only then that he realized that the first round of arrows going off wasn't because of him—it was because of _Cap_ , because holy shit, Cap was suddenly next to him when he wasn't before, and he was using that shield of his to deflect the arrows far faster than Tony could have imagined.  The next thing Tony knew, he'd been hauled up and slung over Cap's shoulder, the clang of metal on metal sharp in his ears as Cap sprinted the rest of the way toward the other end of the room, shield still moving to deflect the arrows coming at them from both sides.

               Finally, he was deposited on what looked like unmarked tiles, and he blinked up at Cap, his chest heaving despite the fact that he hadn't done much aside from fall over.  "How fast _are_ you?" he managed.

               "Almost not fast enough," Cap said.

               The earnestness with which he said those words was surprising, and Tony didn't know how to immediately respond.  "Well," he said at last.  "Thanks for saving my life."  He looked around Cap to see Pepper and Rhodey still standing at the other end, looking like they were about ready to charge in, shield or no.  "I'm okay," he called to them.  "What was that sound?"

               They glanced at each other; Pepper looked particularly uneasy.  "It sounded like aircraft," she said.

               Damn it.  Someone flying over them right now, here in an archaeological site in central China, was almost certainly an enemy and a bad sign.  "We have to get out of here."

               "I'll go up and check it out," Rhodey said, then turned and disappeared up the stairs.

               Pepper moved to follow.  "I'll do the same," she said.  "Please hurry."

               "You heard her," Cap said, holding his hand out for Tony to take.  Tony did so, pulling himself up with a grunt.  There was some pain in his side, which from a glance looked like an arrow had grazed him, but he'd worry about that later.  Better hurt than dead, in any case.

               "Thanks," Tony replied.  He turned then, looking at the skeleton that they were finally standing next to.  It wasn't fair.  He would have loved to take his time here, to check everything out, but it wasn't in the cards.  There was only enough time to spot the fragment they'd been looking for resting atop the skeleton's sternum—Cap reached for it first, though, and held it up to him.

               "This it?" he asked, as though it weren't obvious—it was clear Cap knew exactly what it was, given the almost reverent way he was staring at it.  Tony wasn't sure if he should be unsettled or not.

               "Yeah," Tony said, but Cap was still staring as though he hadn't even heard him.

               "Guys!"

               Pepper's voice, apparently, was sharp enough to cut through whatever trance Cap was in, and he jolted, glancing over at where she'd come back down the stairs.  "Bad news.  We have to go."

               Cap shook his head quickly, opening a pouch and putting the fragment inside, and the moment was over.  "Coming."

               Tony glanced back at the tiles.  "So do you go first, or me?  Because—"

               The rest of his sentence was knocked out of him with an _oof_ as Cap bodily hauled him over his shoulder, and before he knew it, they were moving, Cap gracefully making his way from safe tile to safe tile even with Tony's added weight—he must have memorized where Tony had stepped and was now taking them in reverse.  "This isn't necessary," he protested, but Cap kept going, and then they were back at the entrance in far less time than it had taken to initially cross the room.  Tony caught a glimpse of Pepper's face as he was set down on his feet; she looked as though she couldn't decide whether or not to look amused or concerned.  Damn it.

               "What's the situation?" Cap asked.

               Whatever amusement was on Pepper's face disappeared in a flash, and she motioned for them to follow her up the steps.  "Two planes flying overhead," she said.  "Gone for the moment, but they're doing circles.  Rhodey's sent Jarvis the distress signal so we're hoping we can quickly just get on the airship and make a break for it."

               So someone knew they were here.  The one upside of that alarming fact was that it temporarily distracted Tony from the pain in his side.  "What kind of planes?"

               "Biplanes," Pepper said, holding a hand up to block the sun as they emerged into the light.  Tony scrunched his face as he put his flashlight away—they'd been in that dark tomb longer than he'd thought.  "Umm.  Reminded me of a Jean, which I've seen while with the Navy, but I don't think they'd be this far inland.  Maybe a Perry?  I've seen pictures and it could be that."

               Tony tried to remember the actual planes that corresponded to the reporting names Pepper was giving him as he shoved the stone that had covered the entrance to the tomb back into place.  A Jean was a bomber used by the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service—Pepper was probably right; they weren't going to be flying around in central China.  "Okay," he said.  "A Perry.  It's a fighter plane.  Comes with two forward-firing Type 89 machine guns."

               "If they catch us here they're gonna shoot us down," Rhodey said, having turned toward them once they'd come up the stairs.

               "And they're coming back right now," Cap added, brow furrowed.  "I can hear them."

               As if on cue, Tony could hear the rumbling of incoming aircraft, and he shook his head, swearing softly under his breath.  Louder, he continued, "Northeast, toward the treeline.  Go!"

               They took off.  It wasn't long after that when he could hear the pelting of bullets hit the ground—they'd been spotted, clearly, though the planes were still too far away to be accurate.  It was nonetheless enough to make Tony's pulse jump, and not for the first time, he was grateful that the coil of orichalcum was there to keep his heart beating, no matter how fast it was going.

               He turned to see where the planes were but was immediately distracted when he noticed Cap was lagging behind them, despite the fact that he should have been the fastest of them all.  "Cap?" he shouted, confused.

               "I'm going to try and divert at least one of them," Cap said.  His shield wasn't out, instead still attached to his back, and Tony realized it was meant to be a target—assuming the Japanese had heard of Captain America, there was no way they would be able to resist trying to take him down.

               Or worse, Tony thought, remembering some of the stories he'd heard about their experimentation.  "Are you crazy?"

               "Just keep going!"

               "Jarvis just sent coordinates," Rhodey shouted between gulps of breath, cutting off whatever reply Tony had thought of making.  In that moment of distraction, Cap had peeled away, sprinting in another direction.  Damn it.  "He's coming in from the west!"

               Tony cast a helpless glance Cap's way—as predicted, one of the planes was diverting, going after Cap instead.  There was nothing he could do about it right now, not with Rhodey, Pepper, and Jarvis all in the mix.  "Change course, then!"

               The sound of bullet fire rang out, and Pepper let out a breathless gasp as dust sprang up in front of them, a result of the bullets hitting the ground nearly at their feet.  The only good thing was that the plane couldn't keep up these kinds of close calls for long, not when it was moving so much faster than them; it turned away after it passed overhead, presumably to circle back and try again.  "We gotta get rid of it," she managed.

               "I know!"  A plan was starting to form in his head, though he already knew going in that it was a damned foolish plan and maybe he would die, but at this rate they were going to die anyway, so it wasn't actually that risky after all, and him dying was better than the lot of them dying.  He came to a halt, motioning for Pepper and Rhodey to keep going when they turned toward him with bewildered expressions.  "I'm going to shoot it down."

               Rhodey gaped at him.  "What?!"

               There was no time for this, not when the plane would be back any second.  "Go!" he insisted.  Not wanting to wait any longer, Tony took off his pack and pulled out a gauntlet he'd pulled from one of his suits—he'd thought, maybe, that it would come in handy in case there'd been a cave-in or something, but he supposed taking down an aircraft that was actively firing at them was an alternative, if undesirable use for it.

               "We do this together, or not at all," Pepper said as she and Rhodey jogged back toward him.  Damn them.  Damn them both.  "How can we help?"

               Tony considered telling them to get the hell out of here, but he knew that look in Pepper's eyes, and arguing with them was only going to waste more time.  "Okay," he said quickly as he slid the gauntlet onto one arm.  "I need to supercharge this thing, enough for it to actually hurt the plane.  Pepper, you're gonna have to hold the wire up to the orichalcum in my chest.  The part you'll be holding will be insulated, so you'll be fine, but you can't break contact.  Rhodey, I'm going to need your support.  The plane is high and this thing is heavy.  I'm going to rest my arm on your shoulder and you're going to help me aim."

               No one fought.  They got into place quickly, Pepper methodically unbuttoning Tony's shirt to get to his heart as Rhodey situated himself under Tony's arm.  Pepper then glanced up at Tony, the wire in her hands.  "Do I do it now?" she asked just as a loud rumble told them the plane was coming back.

               Tony nodded, and he shivered as he felt the presence of the wire so close to his heart.  The gauntlet started to whine as it charged up, and together, the three of them looked to the sky as the fighter came back into view.  "Firing!" he shouted, and let out a repulsor blast.

               It missed.

               "We're going to do this," Tony said above the sounds of Rhodey swearing and Pepper taking a shuddering breath.  "Charging again!"

               The fighter started shooting at them, and Pepper squeezed her eyes shut as Rhodey shivered slightly beneath Tony's arm.  Bullets hit the ground several feet to their left and got closer by the second.  They were going to get it this time, they were, they were—

               "Firing!"

               This time, the blast hit, and the plane swerved off toward the trees, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.  A loud sound seconds later told them what happened to it.  Pepper pulled the wire away in the meanwhile, then sagged against Tony, breathing hard.

               "We're okay," Tony said, pulling the gauntlet off of Rhodey's shoulder and shoving everything back into his pack.  "But we still have work to do."

               As if on cue, the airship appeared behind them at long last, looking almost like a mirage.  It sunk low enough for them to board, the doors opening up with Jarvis standing in the entryway.  "There you bloody are," he shouted down at them.  "Why'd the other plane go off?  Where's the Captain?"

               "Find the other plane, and we'll find Cap," Tony said as the three of them rushed on.  Jarvis paled, and Tony clapped him on the back.  "Let's go, old bird."

               The doors were shut and the airship was up record time, and soon enough, they spotted the other plane doggedly still trying to mow Cap down.  Miraculously, only one of its guns was firing—had Cap managed to disable the other one?

               Mindful of the fact that he wasn't going to find out unless they actually rescued Cap, Tony went back to the doors, placing a hand over the lever that would lower them.  "J, get low enough for Cap to board," he called.  "But keep moving, and keep that other plane on their toes.  I'm gonna try and pull Cap in."

               The airship glided lower.  Tony pulled the lever and poked his head outside, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw Cap not too far from him.  "Hey!" he called.  "Free ride.  You interested?"

               "Never thought you'd ask!" Cap shouted back.

               "Then get over here," Tony said, gripping at the edge of the airship with one hand and leaning as far out as he could, arm extended.  "Come on!"

               Cap lunged at him, but gunfire started at that exact moment and he missed, dodging out of the way.  Then more shooting—Jarvis was returning fire now, it seemed, but the airship was slower.  It was enough of a threat that the fighter would try to avoid it, but not enough where avoiding it was going to be particularly difficult.  The airship just wasn't meant for extensive aerial combat, but Tony was wondering now if he should remedy that.

               This wasn't the time to dwell on that, though.  "Try again!" he yelled.

               Cap made another grab for Tony's hand, and this time he managed to hold on.  Tony hurried to pull him up, cognizant of the fact that they were so close to this ordeal being over—

               The plane fired again, and this time a bullet hit Tony right in the arm.

               He screamed in pain, fire shooting up the length of his arm, but somehow he found it in himself to tighten his grip despite the agony, a voice in his head reminding him that what he was holding onto was far more important than himself.  He couldn't fail Cap.  He wouldn't.

               "Tony!" Cap shouted at him, his face specked with red—God, was that Tony's _blood_?  "Let go!"

               "No!" Tony shouted back.  Without thinking, he freed his hold from the airship so that he could grab Cap with his good arm, and for a split second, he was falling—

               Then suddenly he stopped falling, because there was an arm around him, holding him steady.  Rhodey, his brain managed to tell him amidst the agony.  But while Rhodey was strong, Cap wasn't light, and neither was Tony for that matter—they wobbled precariously, Cap still dangling too much to get a good grip on the door and the airship unable remain level as it tried to maneuver.

               "Need some backup here!" Rhodey yelled.

               Tony wasn't very sure what happened in the next few minutes.  He was dimly aware of Jarvis shouting for Pepper, asking her to take over something.  Flying the airship, maybe.  But she didn't know how to fly it?

               It seemed like Pepper was at the helm regardless, because the airship shuddered and jerked before tilting upward abruptly.  Tony let out a yell and tightened his hold on Cap, terrified he was going to lose him, and then there was screaming and something exploded and Tony had no idea what was happening; all he knew was he couldn't _let go_.

               Then another pair of arms reached forward, and he was finally pulled back into the airship proper just as it pitched forward.  Tony swayed dazedly for a second, then fell back onto the floor of the airship with a grunt, his vision going white.  "Cap," he managed, trying to blink the whiteness away.  "Is he here?  Safe?"

               "Hey, yeah, I'm here," someone said.

               Tony let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  They were all okay.  No one had died on his watch.  "Good," he said.  "Good."

               "Mr. Stark?" that same voice pressed.  Tony was pretty sure it was Cap, since no one else on the airship called him that.  It helped that the voice sounded just like Cap's.

               Voicing that observation was too much effort, though, and Tony gave up on trying, letting his eyes fall shut instead.  His arm still felt like it was on fire, but then there was a gloved hand against the side of his head, gently petting his hair and making him forget about the pain for a fraction of a second.

               His last thought before passing out was how nice and familiar it all felt.

 

*

 

_Tony Stark wants to save everyone._

_He goes about this by being a futurist, mostly.  Sometimes it's on a macro level, like figuring out how the war will likely play out and what he can do in order to minimize casualties.  Sometimes it's on a micro level, reading people and situations and assessing how to make things turn out as well as he can._

_Tony is, by all accounts, very good at this.  But sometimes, Steve worries that he's too good.  That sometimes he can see what will happen but not be in a position to change anything.  It's happened before and Steve knows it will happen again.  And the worst part is that he will always, always blame himself, even when it's completely illogical to do so._

_If Tony could actually see the future and know—_ really _know—how things would turn out, Steve believes he would go insane.  That much knowledge going to someone with that much determination to put everything on his own shoulders was never a thing that was supposed to happen._

_And it's why, Steve thinks as he glances up from his sketch, seeing Tony sitting in front of him and drawing out schematics on sheets of paper, that he has to keep some of the secrets he does.  There's some things that Tony should never know._

_But it hurts having to hold back, and Steve knows he can't do it forever, that the truth will come out one day not too far from now.  He has to cherish this now before he loses it._

_"Hey," he says.  "I love you."_

_Tony looks up at Steve, surprised, and then he smiles, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes.  "Hey," he says back.  "Love you too."_

_Steve still can't believe that this is true, that a man who has seen and done as much as Tony has would love… well, him.  But right now, Steve won't fight it.  He'll smile back and remember the softness of his voice, the light crease of the crow's-feet around his eyes.  And he'll know that no matter what happens between them, regardless of whether or not Tony will ever want to lay eyes on him again after he learns the truth, that Tony will always, always want to save him even if he can't._

 

*

 

"I didn't want to see that happen.  Not again."  A sniffle.  "I had to stop it."

               "And you did," came the gentle reply.  "You did great, Ms. Potts."

               Tony groaned and turned his head toward the sound.  It sounded like Pepper and… Cap?  They were talking for some reason, though apparently his waking up interrupted them because they suddenly went quiet.

               "Tony?" Pepper asked.  Her voice was closer than it had been a few seconds ago.  "Are you awake?"

               Yeah.  Yeah, he was awake, even though he kind of wished he wasn't, because now he was remembering all the places he was hurting.  It had been much more peaceful when he'd been passed out.  "Yes," he managed nonetheless.

               "Oh, thank God," she said.  There was another sniffle.  "We were so worried.  Can… can you open your eyes?"

               That seemed like a lot of effort, but Tony supposed he could try.  He started to lift up his right arm—well, lift it up even more than it already was, because someone had elevated it already—then immediately aborted the action because _ouch_ , that hurt.  So he tried again with his left arm, rubbing at his eyes before blearily blinking up at her.  "Hi," he said.

               "Hi," Pepper replied.  She was trying to smile, but it was pretty clear she'd been crying.  It was touching, if a bit odd, if only because he was pretty sure he'd gotten himself into some very tight situations before and he didn't think she'd cried then.  Still.  "How are you feeling?"

               "I've felt better," Tony said, because that was certainly true.  He thought about it.  "But I've also felt worse."

               Pepper managed a weak chuckle.  "I don't know if I should feel reassured by that or not," she said.  "But I'll take it for now.  There was a lot of blood, and you doing… what you did didn't exactly help very much.  But it's cleaned up and bandaged now.  It doesn't look like the bullet hit any bones, so you should be okay with a lot of rest."

               That was the last thing he wanted to hear.  "I _hate_ resting."

               "I don't think anyone's surprised to hear that," Pepper said with an eyeroll.  "But you're just going to have to deal with it."

               "I hate doing that, too," Tony said.  At least it wasn't like there was anything urgent he needed to do at the moment, but it was the _principle_ of it.  "…And what about you?" he pressed.  "Maybe you need some rest, too."  She looked pretty worn out.

               "I can keep an eye on Mr. Stark," Cap said from the background, surprising Tony—he'd forgotten Cap was even there.  "You should get some sleep."

               Pepper scrubbed at her eyes with one hand and nodded.  "I guess," she said.  "Make sure Tony doesn't get up and do things.  He'll try that."

               "I'll keep that in mind," said Cap.

               Tony cleared his throat loudly.  "I'm right here."

               "I _know_ ," Pepper said, and this time her smile was more genuine.  She leaned down and kissed his forehead.  "Be good, okay?"

               "Yeah, yeah," Tony muttered.

               Pepper drew back, then nodded in Cap's direction.  "Thanks, Cap," she said, and then she left the room.

               Tony wondered what she was thanking Cap for.  He also wondered when she'd started calling him that as well.  But he decided to be good and not pry, especially because he preferred to get Cap out of the room right now instead of engaging him in conversation.  "Hey," he said, turning his head toward Cap.  "Don't you need rest too?"

               Cap, still seated in a chair a few feet away, tilted his head.  "You know Ms. Potts warned me that you were going to try and do things mere seconds ago, right?" he said.  "I'm onto you, Mr. Stark."

               "But you really do need rest," Tony protested.  Cap couldn't watch him indefinitely, could he?  "Look.  Your suit is all bloody."

               "With _your_ blood," Cap pointed out.  "And that's why you're lying in the bed and I'm not."

               Tony didn't have a very good rebuttal to that.  "And where are the others?" he asked, letting the previous topic drop for now.  "Jarvis and Rhodey?"

               Cap's lips twitched, and Tony had a feeling it was because Cap knew he'd won that little round.  Damn him.  "Mr. Rhodes is doing research to figure out where exactly we need to go next.  Apparently while we were on the ground, Mr. Jarvis received some transmissions from Fury about Nazi activity in Xi'an.  Seems like a good lead.  And Mr. Jarvis is fixing the airship controls."

               "They were broken?"

               "Ms. Potts damaged them when she took control of the airship," Cap said.  His brow furrowed a little.  "You know she's a war correspondent on the Pacific front?"

               Tony wondered why this was coming up.  "Of course."

               Cap stared at a spot above Tony's head.  "She told me that she saw a Japanese bomber take out a Navy ship.  She knew some of the people on there.  They all died.  The Allies were able to shoot down the bomber later, but it didn't undo the damage.  So when she started flying the airship… well, she was overzealous because she wanted to make sure the fighter didn't take us out.  Turns out unpredictability and determination are a dangerous combination, and she actually shot it down."

               "Oh," Tony said softly.  He'd known—even if he hadn't heard the details—that Pepper had been troubled after her time in the Pacific, though he also knew that she was sure to go back after this was over.  He wished he'd asked her about it.  "Thanks.  You know, for being there for her.  I'm sure talking to you helped."

               "It was nothing," Cap replied.  "You know some brave people, Mr. Stark."

               "Damn right I do," Tony said, unable to help but feel a touch of pride.  God, he was lucky.  He hesitated, then added, "I guess you're no slouch, either."

               "We're not really here to talk about me."  Cap got out of the chair and approached Tony, frowning slightly.  "Bandage is bleeding through.  Time to change it."

               Tony automatically tried to jerk his arm away when Cap reached for it, but it was futile.  He sighed.  "I can change it myself."

               "You can do a lot of things right now," Cap said.  He leaned closer to get a better look at the bandage, then carefully repositioned Tony's arm and took off the red gloves he always wore.  His hands were very pale, Tony found himself noticing.  Pale and unmarked.  "Doesn't mean that you should."

               "Doesn't mean _you_ should, either," Tony replied.  It didn't seem like Cap was deterred, though, because he was starting to carefully unwrap the bandages around his arm.  Well, if Cap was going to be stubborn, Tony supposed he could be stubborn right back.  "And what do you mean, we're not here to talk about you?  You saved my life by jumping in front of a barrage of arrows.  That's worth commenting on."

               Cap shrugged a little.  "I'm pretty sure that whatever you told Virgil didn't involve you dying in an ancient Chinese tomb," he said.  "Wouldn't want to make a liar out of you."

               Tony let out a start of surprise, then immediately hissed in pain—Cap had almost been done removing the bandages, so he'd moved right when Cap was peeling them off the wound itself.  Great.  "Ow.  God.  How—how'd you know about Virgil?"

               Cap chose that moment to turn away, and even though Tony could see that he was getting a wet cloth, it still felt very purposeful.  "I… I heard you.  That first night.  I have very good hearing."

               _That first night_ seemed like ages ago, but after putting some thought into it, Tony realized it was only two or so nights back.  Strange how time worked.  In any case, sure, he'd lit his customary candle for Virgil, and he'd told him a little about what they were going to do, but… something seemed off.  Cap sounded as though he knew of Virgil's significance, which certainly wasn't something Tony would have waxed on about during his talk.

               Then a thought occurred to him.  "Oh, my God," he said.  "You know who Virgil was, don’t you?  And I know how."

               "I _don't_ ," Cap said, far too quickly to be convincing.  "Hold still.  I gotta clean this."  He shifted Tony's arm, then started to dab at the edges of the wound with the cloth.

               It hurt, but Tony could still speak through gritted teeth.  "You know," he repeated.  "Because—agh—you've read _Marvels_ , haven't you?"  It was the only thing that made sense—and if it was true, which Tony was pretty sure it was, it explained a lot of other things.  Like why the hell Cap had even wanted to come along on this mission in the first place.

               "I _haven't_ ," Cap said in the exact same overwrought and unconvincing tone as before.  "I have no idea what _Marvels_ is."

               Not that Tony was going to believe him anyway, but the redness on his face—visible even despite the cowl—made it clear what the truth was.  "You do," he said.  "Holy shit.  And you of all people had enough clout to join me on this.  That's amazing."

               "This was an important mission," Cap muttered, but there was no heat behind his words, and that blush was still there.  It was kind of adorable.  "And you shouldn't look so amused.  It's antiseptic next."

               Tony had to admit that wasn't something he was particularly looking forward to.  Still, he could deal with it.  "So which one is your favorite?"

               Cap leveled a glare at him.  "I'm spraying it now," he said, then actually did so.  Tony winced as he felt it, his toes curling and his fingers clenching, but he managed to refrain from making any sound.  "You okay?"

               "Yeah," Tony panted, letting his body relax.  God, that had stung.  But he'd felt worse, and this was pretty small potatoes in comparison.  Talking to Cap made it more bearable, at least.  "You didn't answer my question."

               "Answering questions about myself is a security risk."

               "Bullshit," Tony said.  If that were actually the case, he would have trotted that excuse out from the very beginning.  "Come on.  Just tell me."

               Cap picked up a dressing pad, staring very hard at it as he laid it over the gunshot wound.  That thing was probably going to leave a scar, Tony couldn't help but think.  " _Tony Stark and the Deadly Riddle of Modok_ ," he said finally.

               Tony beamed, or at least he tried to beam, even though he was lying on a bed with one arm awkwardly elevated.  "I knew it!" he crowed.  "My God.  I have a fan.  And that fan is _Captain America_."

               "Don't let it go to your head," Cap muttered.  He got a roll of gauze out next and started wrapping it around Tony's arm.

               The reproach resonated with something deep inside Tony's head, and he winced.  Cap had a point.  As… entertaining as the thought of Cap being a fan was, the truth was—and always would be—that the entire reason _Marvels_ existed was because of his own selfish desires.  Sure, it had worked out in the end, when he'd found the trident.  And sure, entertaining a bunch of people during darker times had been a positive side effect.  But he'd only ever been in it for himself, and though he was trying now to make up for it all—coming up with discoveries in the Rad Lab, getting shot at by Japanese fighter planes because he was on a mission for the U.S. government—it didn't change the past.  For God's sake, Virgil was dead because of him.

               "You're right," he said softly.  "It's not something to be proud of."

               "Wait, what?" Cap replied, his hands going still for a moment.  "No.  I mean—"  He took a deep breath, then went back to rolling the gauze.  "Look, when those things came out… for a while, the promise of a new issue was what kept me going.  Things were bleak.  I was eating boiled cabbage and mayonnaise sandwiches.  But then I'd read _Marvels_ , and I could pretend that maybe I was going with you on an adventure.  I could see new places, try new things.  And I knew that sure, some of the events were probably exaggerated, but I also knew a lot of it was true."  The blush was back on his face again, but still he kept talking.  "I thought… if Tony Stark could do all of these things, then maybe the thought of me doing a fraction of those things wasn't so impossible.  Maybe I could do more than what I was currently doing.  You were—are—an inspiration to me, Mr. Stark."

               Tony stared at him, momentarily at a loss for words.  Was all that really true?  It couldn't be.  But would Captain America lie to him?

               "Tony," he managed at last.

               "Pardon?"

               "Tony," he repeated.  Captain America, he decided, wasn't a liar—as unbelievable as the things he'd just said were.  "You say I'm an inspiration and save my life.  You get to call me by my first name."

               Cap blinked at him a few times, then seemed to remember what he was doing, cutting the piece of gauze off and taping the end together.  "Oh," he said.  "Thanks, Mr. Stark.  Um.  Tony."

               "There's no need for that," Tony replied, relaxing now that Cap had finished up with his arm.  "I mean, to be clear, what you said borders on the ridiculous.  But…"  His gaze drifted, and though his arm was still throbbing, he smiled up at the ceiling of the airship.  "It was certainly nice."

               He looked back in time to see Cap ducking his head.  "It's the least I could do," Cap said.  His brows furrowed, like he was thinking hard about something, and then he added, "It's… important.  That you know.  _Marvels_ helped me.  And you're a good person."

               Tony pursed his lips.  "Didn't Rhodey give you the talk on how you shouldn't be feeding my ego?  Because this is feeding my ego."

               "So am I supposed to lie?" Cap asked.  "I'm not gonna do that."

               "This is feeding my ego," Tony insisted.

               "Mmm," Cap replied.  "Then you'll just have to deal with it.  Do you want me to re-bandage your side, too?"

               Tony frowned and looked down.  He had an injury there?  His arm wound ached so much, he was barely aware of anything else going on with his body.  "I'm fine," he said, because if he couldn't really tell it existed, then there was no need to bother anyone about it.

               Cap looked at him searchingly.  "I'll re-bandage," he declared, pushing Tony's shirt up.  Now that the skin was exposed, Tony could see that there was gauze over one side of his body, but he was still drawing a blank as to why it was there.  Almost as if Cap could read his mind, he said, "It's from the tomb.  I wasn't fast enough to deflect all the arrows.  I'm sorry."

               "You're sorry," Tony repeated flatly.  "You stopped me from turning into an arrow-filled pincushion and you're _sorry_."

               "You're hurt, aren't you?" Cap asked.  He started to peel away the dressing as Tony watched.  The wound was less severe than the one in his arm, but the dressing still stuck to it, and Tony could feel an uncomfortable prickling sensation as it was pulled away.  Finally, though, it was off, and Cap set the used dressing aside, getting another wet cloth to clean it.

               Neither of them said anything.  Tony cast around in his head for something to talk about—not _Marvels_ , because he was still trying to figure out how he felt about the conversation they'd just had—and came up with nothing.  So instead, he settled for watching Cap as he worked, fascinated by the sheer amount of focus he was dedicating to such an inconsequential task.

               "You really don't have to be so careful," Tony couldn't help but say after a moment.

               Cap's gaze flickered upward, and he stared at Tony for a second, then shook his head and went back to it, as careful as ever.  Tony wouldn't admit it out loud, but the care Cap was taking with him felt… really nice.  He didn't need it—didn't really even deserve it, since it was his own fault he'd gotten hit in the first place—but Cap wasn't stopping, so maybe Tony could just enjoy it while it lasted.

               But all good things came to an end.  Cap sprayed the antiseptic, which made Tony wince but not as badly as he had when it'd been applied to the gunshot wound, and then he was putting a fresh dressing on, taping it in place.  "There we go," Cap said as he pulled the shirt back down.  "Should last through the night."

               "Thanks, Cap," Tony said.  He looked down at where the wound was, noticing now that his shirt was torn in that spot.  It was a good thing he'd stopped getting attached to his clothes a long time ago.

               Cap nodded.  When he didn't say anything, Tony decided to continue, "I wanted to thank you for the other thing, too.  The saving-my-life thing.  I don't think I did."

               "No, you did," Cap said.  "Right after it happened.  You don't need to say it again."

               "Well, you risked your life for me, so it should be fine if I say it twice," Tony replied.  "That's not something just anyone would do.  You didn't even hesitate."

               Cap waved a hand dismissively.  "It's my job."

               Tony felt like it was a lot more than just Cap's job.  He was starting to think that maybe it was just who Cap was.  It was almost frustrating how determined he was to not be praised for anything, but it was oddly endearing, too.  "Either way," he said.  "Glad you were there."

               "Sure," Cap said, but Tony could tell that Cap still didn't think his behavior was particularly worthy of praise.

               He let it drop, though.  Now that his wounds had been cleaned and re-bandaged, he was hopeful that he could get something done instead of lying here uselessly.  "Hey," he tried.  "Could you pass me my notebook?"

               Cap gave him a suspicious look.  "Why?" he asked.

               "It's just some light reading," Tony said.  And some heavy equations.  He'd been pulled out of the Rad Lab on short notice and still wanted to work on a few things—mostly long-range navigation.  The sooner he could figure everything out, the better.

               Cap still looked suspicious, but he went over to Tony's pack, digging out the notebook and bringing it over.  Tony accepted it with his good hand, glad that Cap hadn't thought to pull out the pen he'd stuck into the spiral of it.  "Thanks," he said.  He felt like he was thanking Cap a lot, but he did have a lot to thank Cap for.

               "You really should rest," Cap said.

               "This _is_ rest."

               "Hmm."  Cap didn't say anything else, but he did pull the chair up to Tony's bed, sitting back in it and looking comfortable in a way that made Tony suspect he was up to something.

               Cautiously, Tony opened his notebook up, casting Cap a sideways glance to make sure he wasn't doing anything untoward, then started reading his notes to catch himself up.

               That was when he felt a gentle hand slide into his hair, carefully massaging his scalp.  Despite himself, Tony could feel his eyelids drooping, and he turned to glare at Cap before it was too late.  "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, though the words lacked the bite he was hoping to put into them.

               "I'm stroking your hair," Cap said.  He looked—thoughtful, it seemed, which was kind of a strange expression in this context.  "That's what we do to people who are sick or hurt."

               "I'm not sick," Tony said.  He could feel a yawn coming and determinedly kept his mouth shut to keep it from coming out.

               " _Or hurt_."

               Tony tried to throw his arms up in exasperation, but all he accomplished was another wince as he was painfully reminded of the fact that one of his arms really should not be moved right now.  "You did this earlier, didn't you?" he tried instead.  "I remember."

               Cap looked at him wide-eyed.  "What do you mean?"

               "You know," Tony said, confused again by Cap's expression.  It was hard to really dwell on it, though, because he was starting to feel increasingly drowsy.  "After we got you into the airship.  I passed out, I guess, but I remember someone petting my hair."

               "Oh," Cap replied.  "Yeah.  That was me."

               Tony squinted over at Cap.  Partly out of suspicion, and partly out of a lack of desire to keep his eyes opened all the way.  "Like you knew," he accused.  "How sleepy it makes me feel."

               Cap cleared his throat.  "Well," he said.  "Who doesn't like it?"

               Tony had to admit, he couldn't come up with a very good rebuttal to that.  He couldn't come up with pretty much anything right now, the pain fading to a dull ache as Cap continued to pet him.  In the next second, he was asleep, lulled into dreams by the gentle movement of Cap's hand.

 

*

 

_Steve checks the radio afterward, examining the wires.  As far as he can tell, the transmitter is working—that's good.  But the receiver's been damaged beyond repair, and Steve can feel an odd calm settle in him at the realization._

_No help, he thinks.  He has to do this on his own._

_Tony's on the other end, he knows, because despite their relationship—or lack thereof—his expertise had been needed, and he'd been professional enough to come in and share his knowledge.  It's admirable.  But even now, Steve finds pretty much everything about Tony admirable.  Too bad about the radio, though—if the receiver is broken, then Tony has been pulled in for nothing._

_"Sorry, Mr. Stark," he transmits.  "But I'm unable to receive anything right now.  I'm hoping you can still hear me—"_

 

*

 

Tony woke the next morning to find that they were already circling their next destination, Rhodey having put together the intel they'd received to figure out where they were going.  "There was Nazi activity recorded in Fenghao, the ruins of an old capital located in southwest Xi'an," Rhodey explained as Tony ate breakfast one-handedly.  "Fenghao itself is split into two settlements, Haojing and Fengjing.  Fengjing is where the ancestral shrine was located, so it makes sense that the fragment is located there."  He tapped his paper a little nervously, frowning.  "What we don't know is if the Nazis got the piece or not when they were down there.  We're too far still for the pieces that we have to, uh… guide us, the way they did in Yinxu."

               "Only one way to find out," Tony said.  It wasn't as though they could call up the Nazis and ask politely—he certainly didn't want them to be lying in wait for them to land.  He was still trying to figure out why there was Japanese aircraft in Yinxu, and, more importantly, who had sent them.  "Where are the other two fragments, by the way?  Did anyone put them together yet?"

               "The Captain has them," Rhodey said.  Tony must have reacted in some way, because he continued, "Is there something wrong with that?"

               Tony hesitated, thinking about the way Cap had been drawn to the fragments, the way he'd stared at them.  He thought again of the thick lines of black ink in the files Fury had given him, hiding the truth of what had happened to those who had interacted closely with them.  He didn't want that happening to Cap.

               "He clearly has some kind of affinity with them," Rhodey continued when Tony failed to reply.  "Don't know that any of us would have even imagined it could serve as a compass.  So it's been useful."

               "I guess," Tony said at last.

               Rhodey raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed by his lack of response.  "Do you want me to go get him?"

               Tony was almost tempted to say yes, but not for the right reasons.  He was still trying to figure out how he felt about the other man.  He enjoyed being in Cap's presence, but he didn't know what to make of Cap's evident connection to the relics they were currently hunting down.  Still, Cap was selfless and caring and supportive and all the things Tony wasn't.  And—he made Tony feel safe, what with the life-saving and the bandage-changing.  Which was _stupid_ , because Tony had made a career out of getting into dangerous situations and he didn't need to feel safe.  But here he was anyway.

               Not to mention the fact that Cap apparently _admired_ him.  Tony was familiar with the stories—he knew that Cap was hailed as a hero by a lot of people.  But Cap had told him, with complete honestly, that _Marvels_ had mattered to him.  And that… that was pretty much a minor miracle, really.  Tony had never been able to imagine that a person like Cap would ever think that way.

               "No, there's no need," he finally said.  "Unless you want to get everyone at once.  We should figure out what we're going to do in Fengjing."

               "What _we're_ going to do?" Rhodey said.  Tony had a feeling he knew what Rhodey was trying to imply, and he didn't like it.  Still, as long as he didn't actually _say_ it, it was okay.  "You know what—alright.  I'll get the others.  Be right back."  He left and, as promised, returned a few minutes later with the rest of the crew in tow.

               " _No_ ," Jarvis said immediately as he entered.  "I don't care if your heart is fine.  You were bloody shot and you're in no damn condition to go anywhere."

               "Wait, wait," Tony said, holding his good arm up.  He hadn't even had a chance to provoke anyone yet!  "What did Rhodey say?"

               "I told everyone that you wanted a plan for what we're going to do in Fengjing," Rhodey replied.

               "He made sure to stress that you thought you were part of those plans," added Pepper.

               Tony groaned.  "Worrywarts, the lot of you.  I should definitely be going.  Back me up here, Cap."

               "Well, I guess I _was_ the last person to see your injuries," Cap mused.  "They're pretty bad, you know."

               This was nonsense and Tony disagreed with everything that was happening right now.  "So then what?" he challenged.  "You all are just gonna land, get off, and hope for the best?"

               "I never said that," Cap replied, which earned him startled looks from the others, who had started to nod along.  "I think you should come."

               Tony beamed.  "I knew you'd come through," he said.

               But Jarvis didn't take it nearly as well, immediately rounding on Cap.  "What's your game, son?" he asked, completely uncowed by Cap's status.  He jabbed a finger in Cap's face.  "You said it yourself!  He's injured!  Is this some kind of fool plan to get him killed?  Because let me tell you—"

               "Mr. Jarvis," Cap interrupted.  Tony wasn't sure who to be more impressed by—Jarvis, for getting into Cap's personal space despite all the near-legendary tales of heroics surrounding the other man, or Cap, for having an angry Jarvis' attention on him and _not_ looking as though he were going to wet himself.  "Getting him killed is the last thing I want.  But you know as well as I do—better, probably—that he's not going to stay here if he doesn't want to."  His lips twitched.  "I've seen it enough in _Marvels_."

               Jarvis' gaze flickered to Tony and back.  "That's true," he agreed gruffly.  Why did everyone want to talk about him like he wasn't right here, Tony wondered.

               "So," Cap continued, "if we don't want him to sneak off—because you can't man the airship and keep an eye on him at the same time—we have to bring him with us."  He looked at Tony, and this time his gaze stayed.  "So _you_ are going to be with me the whole time.  Mr. Rhodes and Ms. Potts will take point, and we'll follow."

               Tony groaned.  This was becoming less and less attractive by the second.  "You're bringing me along to babysit me," he said.

               "Yes," Cap said.

               Tony closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.  He wasn't thrilled about the situation, but he also wasn't in a state to fight Cap on this.  It was better than not going at all, in any case.  "Fine," he said.

               Cap glanced back at Rhodey and Pepper, evidently seeking their approval.  Pepper gave a half-hearted nod while Rhodey actually almost looked amused.  "So Cap's a _Marvels_ fan," he said.  "Alright.  I'm trusting you to keep Tony safe."

               Jarvis headed for the door, apparently deciding this conversation was over.  "I'll be landing the airship now," he told them.  "Start preparing to disembark."  Then he left, Pepper and Rhodey following after him.

               "Need help?" Cap asked, stepping toward Tony.

               "Is this a trap?" Tony asked in return.  He carefully sat up, maneuvering his injured arm down to his side.  "I say yes, you say 'aha' and claim it's proof that I'm not fit to come?"

               "I already said you could," Cap replied, sounding overly patient.  "Have some faith in me."  He brought Tony's pack over, opening it up and showing Tony what was inside.  "Look.  Mr. Jarvis showed me how to recharge the gauntlet."

               Tony blinked down at it, surprised that Cap had already put this together for him.  "Well," he said.  "Thanks."  He hesitated, then turned around so that Cap could help him put the pack on.  Everything still hurt, but it was a throbbing, constant pain that he could tolerate for now.  He just needed to last until they found the last piece, and then he could rest.  "Are _you_ already prepared?"

               Cap rolled his shoulders, presumably to point out the shield on his back.  "I have everything I need right here," he said.

               "Okay."  Tony thought about it, then added, "Do you have them?  The pieces, I mean?  Rhodey said you did."

               "I do," Cap said.  He reached into one of his pouches and pulled them out, showing them to Tony.  "They snapped together on their own, but you can still pull them apart with enough force.  Like magnets."

               Tony cautiously reached forward to pick the pieces up, though he supposed at the moment it was just the one piece, since they'd combined, and held it up in the light.  It was clearly a ring now, with about a third of it missing, and there was a hairline crack in the middle of the arc, the only thing to indicate that it wasn't actually a singular fragment.  "I see," he said.  Cap was still holding his hand out, so Tony gave the piece back to him.  "Tell me, Cap… do you think there's anything to this thing?  Have you felt anything?"

               A shadow of… something flickered across Cap's face, and Tony wasn't sure if he'd only imagined it.  "What do you mean?" he asked.

               Tony shrugged.  "Well, we're going after this because the Nazis want it, right?  But as far as I can tell, it doesn't do much aside from act like a magnet even though it looks like a rock.  But maybe you've experienced otherwise."  He wasn't sure if this was a safe topic or not.  Cap thus far had made no comments on his affinity for it, despite it being pretty clear to at least Rhodey and himself, and Tony wasn't sure why.  He thought again of the pages of blacked-out text and wondered if he'd understand better if he'd known what it said.

               "Ah," Cap said.  He put the piece in his pouch, then rubbed his temple with his newly-freed hand.  "I… I don't know.   I feel like it—it makes sense to me, in a way.  But I can't describe it."

               That was a shame, because Tony had no idea what Cap was talking about.  "It makes sense?" he prodded anyway.

               Cap waved a hand.  "You know," he said, even though Tony didn't.  "Things like… the pieces being attracted to each other.  That seemed like an obvious conclusion to draw, even though rationally I know it wasn't.  That's what I mean."

               Tony hummed softly.  "But nothing else?  Nothing you've noticed that would make the Nazis want it?"

               "No," Cap said.  His hand dropped down to his side abruptly, and he continued, "Ms. Potts and Mr. Rhodes are probably ready now.  We should join them."

               That conversation hadn't been nearly as enlightening as Tony had hoped, but he nonetheless nodded, allowing the change in topic.  "Let's go."

               As expected, Pepper and Rhodey were waiting near the doors, and both of them were carrying guns.  Ostensibly, this excursion in Fengjing would be similar to the one in Yinxu, but the knowledge that the Nazis had been here the day before was setting everyone's hairs on end.

               "Captain," Rhodey said, nodding at him in acknowledgement.  "Is it too much to see if the pieces are reacting already?  Would be great if we knew which direction to go in right off the bat."

               "We can check," Cap sad.  He brought the piece out again and pushed it around on his palm, but it didn't do anything of interest.

               Pepper shook her head.  "Guess it's still too far."

               "Or that the last piece isn't even here," Tony said darkly as Cap put the piece back in his pouch.  The Nazis having been here already could mean anything.  Maybe they'd found it.  Maybe they hadn't, and they'd given up.  Or maybe they were here for a completely different reason altogether.  "But we have to try."

               So they disembarked, Pepper and Rhodey taking point as Cap and Tony followed after them.  As far as Tony could tell, there was evidence of recent human activity, but no actual presence.  Whether that was a comforting thought or not, Tony wasn't sure.

               Fengjing, unlike Yinxu, had far more greenery, and plant life was abundant as they headed further into the ruins.  There was a particularly tall structure that Tony could make out deeper in, which, given their current trajectory, seemed to be their current goal.  "Mind your step," Rhodey called back to them.  "A lot of this stuff looks like poison ivy."

               "It grows here?" Cap asked.

               "We're a little further north from where I'd expect it to be found," Rhodey replied.  "Still figuring out if that's noteworthy or not.  But it's native to the country, yes."

               "Hey," Pepper interrupted suddenly.  She motioned ahead, glancing back at them.  "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

               Tony squinted into the foliage.  It was hard to tell, since it was daytime, but… "Torches?" he tried.  He couldn't see much directly, but whatever it was, it was giving off a flickering light that was reflecting off the leaves.

               "I see it too," Cap said.

               "It could be leftovers from when the Nazis were here," Rhodey suggested.

               He didn't sound particularly convincing, and Tony had to agree.  "Doesn't make sense for them to have left lit torches behind," he said.  "Something's going on."

               They took a few more steps forward when the ground shook, and Pepper and Rhodey abruptly disappeared from sight at the same time something made a snapping sound, but it was almost lost amidst everyone's startled shouts.  "Rhodey? Pepper?" Tony yelled, running forward—there was a hole in the ground that certainly hadn't been there before, and the two of them were inside, looking dusty but otherwise alive.  Tony let out a sharp exhale of relief.  "You okay?"

               "We're fine," Pepper said, though she was leaning down to rub her leg.  "Help us out of here."

               "I'll do it," Cap replied quickly, stepping forward before Tony could do anything and reaching downward.

               It was irritating to not do anything, but Tony had to grudgingly admit that Cap was in much better shape to be pulling out people from deep holes than Tony currently was.  He resigned himself to examining the edges of the hole instead, wondering how it had been disguised, and that was when he smelled the smoke—and also when, as if on cue, Tony felt his transceiver vibrate, spelling out Jarvis' distress signal.  "We're in trouble," he announced.

               The ruins, which had felt so peaceful mere moments ago, were suddenly ablaze—Tony realized now that the torches had probably been rigged to topple over when the trap was triggered, which explained the noise he'd heard when it had happened.  And if the distress signal was any indication, he suspected they were going to have company very soon.

               Rhodey swore.  "Is that smoke I smell?" he called.  "Because if it is, we're in even more trouble."  He paused briefly, and Tony saw that he was supporting Pepper's weight so that she could reach high enough to grab Cap's arm.  "Breathing in the oils from burning poison ivy is going to be hell on the lungs, if not worse—"

               Abrupt gunfire cut Rhodey off, and on instinct Tony threw himself to the ground, grunting in pain as everything was jostled.  Pain or not, though, he had to act.  He quickly pulled his pack off, reaching inside with his good hand to grab his gauntlet, but by the time he looked back up there was smoke everywhere—more than was natural, and he suspected that their new company had added smoke bombs to the mix.

               Blindly, he fired into the smoke once, twice, three times—but the recoil from the gauntlet was fierce, and he cried out in pain each time it went off.  Still, he struck _something_ the third time, because he heard an answering cry, which was good, but not good enough.  "Cap?" he called as he held his sleeve to his face in a vain attempt to breathe in less of whatever was around him right now.  "Rhodey?  Pepper?"

               "Here!" he heard Pepper call out in response, but there was too much smoke to tell where she was; all he knew was that he could also hear gunfire from the same point, and he prayed it was her shooting and not the other way around.

               His options were limited.  He needed to find the others, but he wanted to minimize the risk of getting shot, friendly or otherwise.  So he pushed himself up into a crouching position, then made his way toward where he thought the pit was, sighing in relief when the ground nearly gave way under his feet—and wasn't _that_ a thought he never thought he'd have?  There was movement below, and Tony realized Rhodey was still in there, hacking at the walls.  "Rhodey?" he yelled hoarsely.

               "Thank God it's you," Rhodey breathed as he looked up.  He'd taken off his outer shirt and tied it around his face such that only his eyes were visible.  "Cap was here, but a bunch of guys attacked him and he's busy now.  Is Pepper okay?"

               "Yeah, I heard her," Tony said quickly.  "What do you need?"

               Rhodey tossed up a length of rope, which Tony managed to catch with his gauntleted hand.  "I know you can't pull on anything right now.  But I've made some footholds and I can climb out on the rope if you tie it to something.  Can you do that?"

               "Yeah," Tony repeated, grateful to have a chance to do something.  "Get out safe, okay?"  Without waiting for an answer, he made his way toward the nearest pillar, keeping his head low.  There was still smoke and the sound of bullet fire all around, and he couldn't help but worry about Pepper—but Rhodey was a sitting duck while he was in that pit, and Tony needed to get him out as soon as possible.

               A bullet dinged the pillar he'd just walked around, and he involuntarily gasped, ears stinging from the sharp sound.  Had that been luck, or was someone aiming for him?  There was no time to find out.  He looped the rope around the pillar as quickly as he could, then took off the gauntlet long enough so that he'd have enough dexterity to tie off a knot.  "It's done!" he called afterward, hoping that would be enough for Rhodey to know he could climb up now.

               Before he could head back for the pit, though, several more bullets hit the pillar, forcing him to stay put.  It probably wasn't luck, he thought as he hastily stuffed his good arm back into the gauntlet.  He hated it when the bad guys were lucky.

               Maybe he could turn things around a little, though.  "Ich bin es!" he shouted.

               For a moment, the bullets let up.  "Was?" came the response.

               Not a voice he recognized, but certainly one he could locate.  Taking advantage of the reprieve, Tony spun around the pillar, then fired the gauntlet in the direction of the voice.  He was rewarded by the sound of an agonized shout and what he was pretty sure was the clatter of a weapon falling to the ground.

               With the coast relatively clear again, Tony ran back out, following the rope through the smoke and arriving back at the pit. "Rhodey?" he yelled as he got there.  But the rope hung loose, and the pit was empty.  It was then that he realized that everything was suddenly quiet—no more gunfire, no more shouting, only the quiet crackle of fire on leaves—

 

*

 

_Steve is used to Tony looking at him with warmth, with fondness, with love.  Right now, though, the expression Tony is leveling at him is the opposite of all those things, and even though Steve knows that everything he's done has led up to this—led up to him_ deserving _this expression of derision and distrust, it still feels like a knife being twisted in his stomach._

_"I can't control it," he continues, once it's clear that Tony isn't going to say anything.  He wonders if there's even any further point in talking about this, but he's kept this from Tony for so long—he might as well just lay it all out now.  "But—I understand what it means when it happens.  And I never told you."_

_He pauses to give Tony a chance to reply, but there's nothing but silence.  Just when he's about to open his mouth again, though, Tony says, "I want to see.  Show me."_

_It won't help anything.  But Steve shows him anyway, and Tony looks.  As Steve expects, nothing Tony sees makes him feel any better, and he pushes Steve's hand away, stalking toward the edge of the room before going still, seemingly staring at the wall.  "How long?" he asks._

 

*

 

An explosion sounded.

               It was, Tony realized as his heart leapt into his throat, coming from the direction of the airship.  With no leads on anyone else's whereabouts, Tony broke into a run back toward it, sleeve held up to his face again to try and block out some of the smoke.  But Rhodey's warning about burning poison ivy rang in his head, and he had a sinking feeling that he was already starting to feel the effects—his skin itched, his eyes burned, his throat ached.

               Still, all of that was secondary to what Tony feared was happening.  If the Nazis had found them here, they'd probably found the airship, which Jarvis was currently occupying.  And while Jarvis was a tough old bird, he wasn't superhuman.  If he had to face off against several Nazis on his own…

               Soon enough, the airship came into view, but Tony was distracted by movement off to the side.  He scrubbed his watering eyes, focusing them in time to see—a man?  Not walking.  In a—a wheelchair?

               "Hey!" he called, stepping toward him.

               The man looked back.  His face was pale and drawn, like he was ill, and his expression was—neutral.  Completely neutral, as though he wasn't deep in a forest that had just been set aflame.

               He'd done something.  Tony knew he'd done something, and he needed to stop him.  But then another _bang_ sounded, drawing his attention back to the airship, and all of Tony's worst fears crowded to the front of his mind, the confusion about the man and discomfort from his skin and arm and side receding into the distance.

               It was on fire.

               "Jarvis!" he yelled, on the off chance that Jarvis would reply, but there was no response.  It didn't matter.  Maybe he was unconscious or otherwise unable to respond.  There was, of course, only one way to find out.

               Tony pulled off his outer shirt—almost certainly jostling the gauze around his bad arm in the process, since it ached sharply as he moved—and tied it around his face the way Rhodey had.  And then he ran inside.

               The ship was darker than he would have thought, thick plumes of smoke obscuring the flames, which, from what he could tell, were mostly concentrated near the front.  He avoided that area for now, keeping as low to the ground as he could, eyes peeled for any sign of Jarvis.  This had all been a trap, he thought dimly as he picked his way past overturned furniture.  The Nazis had known they were looking for the ring pieces and they had known that if they came here, Tony and the others would have followed.  He wondered if the last piece had ever even been in this place.  He wondered if it mattered.

               "Jarvis!" he tried again, voice hoarse from the smoke, but again no one answered.  Tony went in deeper, stopping along the way to pick up one of his notebooks off the ground, and that was when he saw a pair of feet sticking out from under a collapsed shelf.

               "Oh God, oh God," he whispered as he rushed closer, hands trembling as he tried to find a good place from which he could lift the shelf.  If it was Jarvis under here, if he'd been hurt or worse because he'd been left to guard the airship alone because Tony had been too stubborn to stay…

               Finally he was able to get a good grip on the shelf, and he started lifting, body screaming in agony as he did.  His bad arm ached worse than ever, but he kept going until he was able to push the shelf aside with a ragged exhale, falling to his knees afterward.

               The body was right next to him.  He looked at it.  It was in a Nazi uniform.

               Tony didn't know if he should be relieved or not.  Jarvis wasn't the dead person here, but it meant that the enemy had been on the ship.  And maybe Jarvis was elsewhere.  He didn't know.  But he had to keep looking.

               Groaning, he tried to push himself onto his feet, but his body refused to listen.  With no better options, he started crawling instead, which at least had the benefit of keeping him below the smoke.  Maybe Jarvis was near the front.  Maybe there was still a chance for Tony to fix his mistake.  Maybe, maybe, maybe.

               He made it a few feet more before he gave in and passed out on the floor.

 

*

 

_Steve looks down at himself and sees lacerations going down the length of his body, oozing blood onto the blanket Tony had hastily pulled him onto.  It hurts, he thinks dully.  But he's been in pain before, and he knows that he'll heal, as he has so many times before.  So it's fine, really._

_Tony doesn't seem to share his opinion.  "I let this happen," he keeps saying over and over, hands skittering as they grab items from the first-aid kit.  "Should have planned better.  Should have been me."_

_"No," Steve says sharply, because the thought is horrifying.  He could have—has, even—survived their trap, and the only thing it will cost him is temporary pain.  If Tony had been in his shoes, it could have been so much worse.  "It should have been me, and it was.  This was… aghhh… this was the right thing to do.  You didn't let anything happen, Tony."_

_"Then what do you call this?" Tony all but yells in return, and the force of his reply shocks Steve into silence for a moment.  "What good am I if I can't stop the people I love from getting hurt?"_

_"Jesus, Tony," Steve whispers, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels Tony's hands against him, cleaning away the blood.  "This—"_

 

*

 

"—wasn't your fault.  It's okay.  It's okay."

               Tony woke with a jolt, sucking in a lungful of air and immediately coughing it out.  He felt like hell.  His throat hurt, his arm hurt, his side hurt, his everything hurt.

               It took a minute, but eventually he was able to gather his wits, looking around.  The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in a burning airship, but what looked like a small hospital room.  The second thing he noticed was that Cap was sitting beside him, peering at him with almost unbearable concern.  The third thing he noticed was that Cap was holding his hand.

               He wanted to ask where they were right now or what had happened to Pepper and Rhodey and Jarvis or why Cap was holding his hand.  When he opened his mouth, though, the only thing that came out was a ragged: "What?"

               "Oh," Cap said softly.  "You're up."

               "Yes," Tony managed.  It would have been nice if he were capable of saying more than one word at a time, but he supposed that he wasn't in a state to ask for much right now.  "What—" he paused to cough, then continued, "happened?"  Progress!  Two words now.

               Cap frowned at him.  "It seemed like you were having a nightmare," he said.  "You were talking in your sleep."

               Tony groaned, reaching up with his good arm—though it itched, so it wasn't really a good arm anymore, except his bad arm was both itchy and shot, so he supposed it was still his good arm if only relatively speaking—to rub at his temple.  "No, not that," he said.  "I don't care about that."  Who gave a damn if he was having some nightmares?  He always had nightmares.  "I mean the important things."  His throat ached again, but he made himself add, "My friends.  Where?"

               Cap took a deep breath, gaze flickering away for a moment before he looked back at Tony.  "They're… far.  But I think they're alive.  Their transceivers were still sending signals, but the distance became too great and they dropped off."

               "'Their'?" Tony repeated, wanting to make sure he heard right.  He was afraid to hope, but he needed to.  "All three of them?"  It wasn't great to know that they were in Nazi custody, but it was good in that he knew that they wouldn't be in Nazi custody unless they were alive.

               "Yeah," Cap said, squeezing his hand.  So he knew he was holding it, then.  Alright.  "From what I can tell, the attack was an ambush they planned at the last-minute when they realized what our trajectory was.  Their goal was probably to get the pieces I was holding, or, barring that, to capture people in our party for either information or for bargaining.  Maybe both."

               Information, Tony thought.  It didn't sit well in his head.  "We have to save them."

               "Of course," Cap agreed, but he was frowning.  "But let's not forget you're still hurt.  Even worse now, in fact.  Your arm started bleeding again and you're on steroids now for the poison ivy."

               Tony blinked slowly.  "Steroids?" he said.  "Where did we get those?  For that matter, where are we?"

               Cap looked out the window.  "We're in Xi'an proper," he said.  "I found you in the airship and I carried you here.  It was a few miles away.  I don't know much Chinese, but they were willing to help.  For all I know it's just a matter of time before the Japanese soldiers stationed here learn about us, but it was more important to get you some medical attention."

               Tony tilted his head back, fighting an odd urge to smile.  It wasn't that smiling was _bad_ , but it felt like the wrong time.  "So you saved me," he said.  "Again."

               "If that's what you want to call it," Cap replied dubiously.  "Why were you in the airship in the first place?"

               Reality crept back into Tony's thoughts, and the urge to smile disappeared.  "I heard an explosion go off," he said.  "I wanted to find Jarvis."

               "You could have died in there."

               "And Jarvis couldn't?" Tony countered.  "If he was in there, I owed it to him to find him.  It was my fault he was in danger in the first place."

               Cap's frown deepened.  "And how do you figure that?"

               Tony squeezed his eyes shut.  "He wanted me to stay," he said softly.  "I should have listened.  If I'd been there, maybe things would have been different."

               "Or maybe you would have just been captured too, considering how beaten up you are," Cap replied.

               "Yes," Tony agreed as more of the day's events came back to him.  God, what a mess it had all been.  "You know, Rhodey threw a rope up at me while he was still trapped in that pit?  He wanted to use it to climb out."  Cap didn't reply, so he continued, "I was too weak to tug him up myself with it.  So I went off to tie it to something.  But when I came back, he was gone.  I wasn't quick enough, and I lost him because of that."

               Cap furrowed his brows at Tony.  "Just to be clear," he said, "you blame yourself for both Rhodey and Jarvis.  And probably Pepper, too."

               "Of course I do!" Tony snapped, surprising even himself with his vehemence.  "I should have—should have planned better.  Should have been more careful.  Shouldn't have gotten shot."

               "You got shot because you were busy saving me," Cap said.

               Tony blinked slowly at Cap, not sure how to reply to that.  "Well," he said at last.  "Yeah.  You're important."

               "And you're not?" Cap countered.  His voice was sharp, sharper than Tony would have expected.  "Look, Tony.  We're in a bad spot right now, which, by the way, is _not_ all your fault.  But I know you've been in bad spots before, and you've always gotten out of them.  Because you're Tony Stark.  That was practically your job description before the war.  So we _are_ going to save the others, and we _are_ going to get that last piece, and we _are_ going to punch some damn Nazis in the face.  And we're going to do it because we have you.  Okay?"

               Tony's lips parted, and for the second time in mere minutes he found himself at a loss for words.  It was just—Cap _believed_ in him, apparently.  And Tony didn't know what to make of that.

               What he did know, though, was that he sure as hell wasn't going to let Cap down.

               "You're right," he said at last.  He sat up despite the protests of his body, pushing the blanket down.  "We have to go back to the airship."

               Cap gaped at him.  "Wait," he said, tugging on Tony's hand as if to get him to lie down again.  "I didn't mean _right now_.  You're still hurt!"

               "No, it has to be now," Tony said, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from Cap's.  "I have to see if it's salvageable.  If it's not, I have to destroy it to make sure no one else who finds it can use it against us.  And either way, there's still stuff in there.  The suits, for one thing.  We'll be lucky if the Nazis haven't swung back to check it out already while I was lying here."

               Cap was still staring blankly at him, so Tony tried a smile.  His skin ached a little—from dryness, he suspected—but hopefully the smile looked better than he felt.  "You can't tell me you expect great things out of me if I'm just passed out in a bed."

               "I can't expect great things out of you if you're falling apart," Cap said, but it looked like he was trying to hide a smile of his own.

               "Well, I'm sure with you around I'll stay in one piece," Tony said.  He swung his off the bed and managed to stand.  At least his legs were fine.  "Anything we gotta do before we go?  Pay?"

               "No, uh, I took care of that," Cap replied.  Tony wondered what that had entailed, but Cap didn't elaborate, so Tony didn't pry.  "I have medicine for you, too.  So we can go."

               Tony nodded.  "Let's get out of here, then."

               By the time they had made it back to the ruins—Cap had managed to barter for some bicycles, so the trip wasn't too bad—the airship, which was thankfully intact, had stopped burning.  Tony headed inside, first doing a spot check for his armor—still there—before heading to front where the fire had been.  Cap trailed after him, making a soft sound of disgust as they passed by the body Tony had previously encountered.

               "Okay," Tony said, mostly to himself as he looked around.  "I'm going to see how bad the damage is.  Find out what we have to work with.  Cap, I need a favor."

               Cap came up to stand beside him.  "You want me to remove the body."

               "I want you to remove the body, yes," Tony said.  "And check the rest of the ship.  Make sure they didn't leave any surprises for us."

               "Got it," Cap said.

               He turned and left, and it was just Tony now in the burnt-out room.  He spent the next hour moving things around and fiddling with configurations and controls as Cap was in and out, giving him updates about the ship's status and at one point making him take some pills that Tony didn't want to take, but Cap insisted.  Finally he flopped back into the pilot's seat, wiping his brow.  His skin was itching again, and though the pills helped (not that he'd admit that to Cap), it didn't dull everything completely.

               "So?" Cap asked as he came in again, presumably catching sight of Tony sitting and doing nothing.  "Are we FUBAR?"

               "Not beyond _all_ recognition," Tony replied.  "Good news is, I think we can still fly this thing, and I think I have an idea of where our friends are.  Bad news is, I don't know that she'll fly for long, and if I'm reading the transceiver signals correctly, they're in Turkey."

               "Turkey," Cap repeated.  "Okay.  And when you say she won't fly for long… do you think she can make it to Turkey?"

               Tony pursed his lips, sitting up long enough to check the controls again.  "It's a solid day of flying," he said.  "But I think we can do it.  _Barely_."

               "As in, if we do make it there, we may not have transport to get out," Cap mused softly.

               "Not our own transport, anyway," Tony said, clapping his hands.  "So there's going to be a lot of improv, probably.  You up for that, Cap?"

               Cap beamed, and Tony could feel his heart melting a little at that.  "Always," he said.

               They had fuel, they had food, they had the suits.  "Then let's get this girl off the ground," Tony said, and soon enough, they were in airborne, heading west.

 

*

 

_Steve looks outside and sees white.  It's an okay view, but it could have been better in a lot of ways.  Ways he can't do anything about at this point, so he looks back down, away from the glare of the white on his eyes._

_"Because I made a choice, Tony," he continues, voice lower.  He splays a hand out, pretending he has any chance of physical contact with him.  "I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't make the same choice again.  But it hurt you.  I know it hurt you.  And for that, I will always be sorry."_

_Out of habit, he glances up again.  There's no reply._

 

*

 

"There was a man in a wheelchair," Tony said, staring up at the ceiling from the bed that Cap had dragged into the control room.  He couldn't leave—he needed to be around in case they hit turbulence and they needed manual steering—and so Cap had insisted on doing as much as he could to make Tony comfortable.  It was thoroughly unnecessary, but also sweet in its own way.  "Leaving the airship when it was on fire.  I didn't recognize him, but… he's involved.  I know he is."

               "Why do you think that?" Cap asked.

               Tony hesitated, thinking about it.  Saying that it was just his gut wasn't good enough.  He needed more.  "He was old," he said at last.  "And… he wasn't in a uniform.  So he wasn't a grunt."

               Cap tilted his head a little, looking thoughtful.  "That's something."

               "Yeah," Tony said, mind churning.  He hadn't recognized him, but… he almost felt like he should have.  He didn't know why.  Maybe it was because… "He didn't have to be there.  He probably shouldn't have, if he's calling the shots.  But he must be invested somehow."

               "Okay," Cap replied.  "And do you think he was responsible for what happened at Yinxu?  With the planes?"

               Tony rubbed his forehead.  "I don't know," he eventually answered.  "It might have been bad luck, but there's no reason Japanese planes would be flying over that area normally.  So maybe it was him.  And if it was—then that means this guy has known where we were, fast enough to either meet us there or get there in advance.  I'm getting the feeling that hoping that he _doesn't_ know that we're following him to Turkey is too much to ask for."

               "He's probably expecting us," Cap agreed.  "Using the others as bait."

               "Expecting us," Tony repeated, turning the words over in his head.  There was something nagging at him, but he wasn't sure what.  His body still ached too much for him to really focus, which was annoying.  Cap had offered him painkillers, but Tony had turned them down.  "It could be that he's tracking the airship?"  He had, of course, equipped it with stealth technology, but maybe it had somehow failed or become damaged.  If the ship could be repaired after all this mess, he'd have to look into it.

               Cap shook his head slightly, surprising Tony.  "The artifact," he said.  "There are three pieces, right?  We have two.  It makes sense if he has the last one."

               "Why?"  The conclusion didn't particularly surprise him—after what had happened at Fengjing, Tony suspected that the Nazis had been there first and already found the piece.  Maybe they'd found it when they were laying the trap, or maybe they'd already found it earlier.  He didn't know.  But what he didn't understand was why a discussion on how the man in the wheelchair knew their whereabouts prompted Cap to come up with this.

               Cap opened his mouth a little, then closed it, lips pursing.  "Well," he finally said.  "The pieces are attracted to each other, right?  If his piece are attracted to ours then he'll always have an idea of which direction we're in."

               "But it doesn't work over long enough distances, which we've already learned," Tony pointed out.

               "It might," Cap insisted.  "If we have two pieces and he has one.  The attraction to our two pieces may be stronger than the attraction to his single piece."

               Tony still felt doubtful, but he couldn't find anything to actually refute.  He still felt like he was missing something, but he wasn't sure what.

               It all, he felt, came down to those redacted files.  The pieces—a single piece, even—did _something_ , even if whatever it did didn't manifest itself to him.  But he didn't know what that something was, and it was driving him crazy.

               But there was nothing he could do about it.  "Okay," he said.  "So let's assume that he knows we're already on our way.  And the closer we get, the better he'll be able to pinpoint us.  Well—pinpoint whoever is holding the pieces.  Almost sounds like we should each take a piece and approach wherever we're going from different directions."

               "Under no circumstance is that a good idea," Cap said sharply.  Tony blinked.  "You're hurt, in case you've forgotten again.  We need to support each other, not go our separate ways."

               "You realize that you're supporting the idea of him knowing exactly where we are and where we'll be coming from so that he can prepare for us at his leisure, right?" Tony replied, frowning.  "I don't see how that's better."

               Cap shook his head again.  "This is all assuming that stealth is even an option," he said.  "Just take it off the table.  We can't do stealth.  So we need to do the opposite of stealth.  And what's that?"

               Tony stared at him.  "Well, you're asking _me_ ," he said.  "So I'd say don the suits and go in with guns blazing."  He could go even grander—probably something involving rigging the airship somehow—but without knowing the circumstances of the others' captivity, he couldn't risk blindly raining explosives or otherwise onto wherever they were holed up.

               Unexpectedly, Cap lit up at that, face breaking into a wide smile.  "You said _suits_ ," he said.  "Plural."

               Something clicked in Tony's head, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes even as his own lips twisted upward.  "Oh, my God," he said.  "You want to wear a suit."

               "Well, yeah," Cap said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  But then he slumped a little, looking somewhat dejected.  "But I shouldn't.  I work better if I have the mobility to throw the shield.  Still, you thought of me."

               "You're a strange man, Cap," Tony said.  "But alright.  We go in together and break through whatever defenses they have set up.  Then we find the others.  Then, if it's there, we use our pieces to find the last fragment.  I want us to end this, one way or another."

               "We'll do it," Cap asserted with a nod.  "We got you.  It'll be fine."

               There Cap went again with all that encouragement.  Tony was starting to believe that he really meant it.  "Yeah," he said.  "And we got you, too."  He'd been annoyed at the prospect of Cap tagging along at first, but… it wasn't so bad anymore.  It wasn't bad at all.  Even ignoring the fact that he was a handy man to have in a fight, his presence was just… comforting.  He trusted Cap.

               His gaze drifted to the windows and back.  The autopilot had been haphazardly slapped together, but it was working for now, which was the important part.  "What will you do?" he asked.  "Once this is over?"

               "Me?" Cap asked, as though there were anyone else Tony could be addressing.  "Oh.   Well.  Fury would probably ask me to go back to Europe.  That's where I was spending all my time before this assignment came along."  He shrugged.  "And what about you, Tony?  I'd… heard that you were doing research stateside."

               "I was," Tony agreed.  "Still am, I guess."  Doing the research part, anyway.  He was obviously not stateside at the moment.  "But…"  He took a deep breath, looking back out the window again.  "I guess you could say I've enjoyed working with you."

               He looked back in time to see Cap's lips quirk upward.  "You guess, huh?" he said.  "I guess I could say the same."

               "It probably wasn't as great as _Marvels_ made it sound, though," Tony said, shaking his head.  "I managed to avoid poison ivy smoke inhalation and bullets in most of those."

               "Yeah, but we still went into a booby-trapped tomb and fought a bunch of bad guys," Cap said, grinning.  "I think it was just like _Marvels_."

               Cap sure looked sweet with that megawatt grin of his.  "Then I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself," Tony replied.  He wondered if he should say what he was thinking.  The worst Cap could do was say no, right?

               Right.  He didn't get this far by not taking risks.  "You know," he continued, "The Nazis are always looking for things.  Going all over the world.  Trying to find items they can use against us."

               Cap tilted his head slightly.  "Yeah?" he asked.

               "Yeah," Tony said.  He coughed and cleared his throat.  "I mean.  This thing that Fury has us looking for now—I'm assuming it's a special case, if knowledge about it reached him.  But just because Fury doesn't want the Nazis getting this in particular doesn't mean that we should be letting them get any of the other stuff, either."

               "Sure," Cap said, nodding a bit.  He paused, then added, "So what are you suggesting?"

               Tony tapped his fingers against his sheets.  "Pepper's going to go back to the Pacific after this," he said.  "And Rhodey's going back to the front lines, too.  But I don't have any front lines to go back to.  The Army doesn't accept people with hearts like mine."  He cleared his throat again, even though he didn't really need to.  "I can do theoretical work anywhere, not just stateside.  I can do it and do other things at the same time."

               "Other things," Cap repeated.  "Like thwarting Nazi plans to find magical relics?"

               "Just like that."  Tony glanced at Cap, but his expression was unreadable.  "I've adventured with a lot of people in my day, Cap."  Some of those people had already been friends.  Some had become friends.

               Some had become lovers, he thought, and he remembered the feel of Cap's hand around his in that little hospital room in Xi'an.

               It had ended in heartbreak or worse every time, and Tony's chest still ached at the memory of it.  And yet—was he supposed to just give up now?  Or keep trying?

               He didn't want to give up.

               "And you want me to become part of that group, is that it?" Cap said, voice soft.

               Tony still couldn't tell what Cap was thinking.  "Yeah," he said as casually as he could manage—which, he had a feeling, was not actually all that casual.  "I mean—you said you enjoyed this, right?  And… and you're nice to have around.  So.  It was—it was an idea."

               "Gosh," Cap said, and goodness, just how wholesome was this man?  "I'm flattered, Tony."

               He could hear it already, even if Cap hadn't said it yet.  "But…" he prompted when Cap didn't continue himself.

               Cap shook his head.  "I don't think I can," he said.

               Tony nodded, a little too quickly because he jostled something he shouldn't have.  With a wince, he laid back down onto the bed.  "Right," he said.  It had been a stupid, selfish suggestion anyway.  Cap had better things to do.  "Forget I said anything."

               "I didn't mean it like that," Cap added hastily, eyes wide.  "No.  I'd love to.  I'd really love to.  I just think—I'm needed in Europe."

               "Oh, Tony said.  It made him feel a little better… but not by much.  "Well—"

               "—But I think maybe we can work something out," Cap continued, before Tony could say anything more.  "I know the Nazis are looking all over the world.  But that's gotta involve Europe at least some of the time, right?  So maybe when your searches take you there, we can work together.  I don't think that's out of the question."

               Tony blinked at him.  "Oh," he repeated.

               "Yeah," Cap said.  He smiled.  "We'll work something out.  This won't be the last time we see each other, I know it."

               He sounded so certain, Tony almost believed it.  He wanted to believe it.  "Okay," he said.  He managed a smile back.  "Good."

               Cap reached out, and—and he was holding Tony's hand again.  "There's a future," he said.  "After we find Ms. Potts and Mr. Rhodes and Mr. Jarvis.  And after we find the final piece.  There's gonna be a future."

               He squeezed his hand, and Tony found himself squeezing back.  "A future," Tony said, and somehow, this time he really did believe it.

 

*

 

_Their time together is rare, as all too often their duties take them in different directions.  But they manage somehow, finding the points where their paths intersect, riding the tangent for as long as they can._

_Someday the future they have will end.  Steve's arc will stop and Tony's will go on, on, on, curving away from him into infinity._

_Steve shivers in Tony's arms as he thinks about what lies ahead of him, about the darkness that's waiting because of choices he'd made before he'd even realized he'd made them.  But—make no mistake—they were_ his _choices, and he knows he would make them again and again and again._

_"What's wrong?" Tony asks, his lips pressed against Steve's hair._

_Steve closes his eyes, but he's facing away and Tony is holding him, so Tony can't see.  "I'm thinking, I guess."_

_"About what?"_

_The room is so dark.  Steve feels like it would be this dark at the bottom of the ocean.  It would be sad, he thinks, for that to be the last thing that he sees._

_"About the things I'd do for you."_

 

*

 

The transceivers the others had been carrying had been destroyed at some point, leaving Tony with no choice but to continue their current trajectory and to hope that they hadn't been moved to some other location.  He'd wondered as their signals blinked out how they were going to do this—how they were going to make any sort of progress beyond "arrive at Turkey and find them somehow".

               In the end, Tony didn't have to wonder after all.

               "Do you see that?" Cap asked, standing close to the window and peering outside.  "There's a plume of smoke that seems to be coming a few miles off the shore."

               "Could be something irrelevant," Tony said, following his gaze.  "Turkey's neutral.  No combat here."

               Cap let out a soft hum of agreement.  "Might be an oil platform on fire."

               He glanced at Tony, and Tony immediately knew what he was thinking.  "Or it might be something else," he said.  "Let's check it out."

               It was in that instant when the airship, which had been doing so well up until now, finally decided it was time to start failing.

               "I'm assuming this isn't a good thing," Cap said as alarms started to go off, lights blaring all around.  His voice was almost admirably neutral, sounding unconcerned even as the airship shuddered beneath them.

               "No, not really," Tony said.  He lurched out of bed and made some adjustments, and for the moment, the airship stopped shaking.  It wasn't going to last forever, though, and he knew that he needed to start thinking about the best way they were going to hit the ground with this.  "But I did warn you we'd barely get there, didn't I?"

               "You did," Cap agreed.  He tapped his fingers against his shield for a few seconds, then continued, "What can I do?"

               Tony looked outside.  "If we're going to be landing around here, then we might as well get as close to the smoke as we can," he said.  "I'm gonna try and land us somewhere on the shore.  We'll get off and wing it from there.  Can you get the suit?"

               "On it."  Cap vanished, presumably heading off to the room where suit was currently hooked up, charging.  His heart could power it, but it certainly didn't hurt for it to have its own power as well, especially for what he was planning.

               With Cap out of the room, Tony took a little less care moving around than he would have otherwise, and he reached over with his bad arm to tweak a few more settings, grunting in pain afterward.  God, he couldn't wait for this to be over.  As much as he didn't want to admit it, it might be nice to take a moment to actually breathe—even though he knew rationally that really, he couldn't ever rest.  Not while the war was still going.

               Cap returned moments later, dragging the suit along.  It had taken a lot less time than Tony had expected—Tony had no idea how the Army had managed to find such a pinnacle both personality- and strength-wise, but it was commendable.  "How are we doing?" he asked.

               "We'll be able to land," Tony replied as the airship gave another lurch.  That was the nicest phrasing he could think of.  He pulled away, unsteadily making his way toward Cap and the suit.  "Think you can help me in there?"

               "Sure," Cap said.  Despite the rough landing incoming, he had a glint in his eyes that Tony recognized from their earlier conversations—the man was starstruck, apparently, and it was adorable.  "How does it work?"

               Tony spent the next few minutes going over the way the suit fit together.  They didn't have a lot of time and honestly, the level of detail he was going into wasn't strictly necessary—but it was clear Cap wanted to learn about it, and Tony… well, Tony wanted to please him.

               He was finishing up the last of his explanation when the airship jolted again, and Tony stumbled forward, finding himself very suddenly in Cap's arms.

               "Oh," he said.

               "Uh," Cap replied in turn.

               Cap felt warm around him, and Tony realized he didn't want to leave.  But then the airship groaned in a way that reminded him that they _really_ didn't have the time right now, so with a great deal of reluctance, Tony straightened, gripping onto Cap's shoulder for support.  "Sorry about that," he said, even though he wasn't sorry at all.

               "It—it was no problem," Cap said, and was it just Tony, or were his cheeks a little red?  Before he could get a better look, Cap shook his head quickly, glancing back at the armor.  "Okay.  Let's get you in."

               Without Tony having to prompt him, Cap pressed down on all the right latches, the armor opening up enough for Tony to be able to fit in.  The sound of it closing around him was comforting, as it always was.  Standing on his own was difficult without support.  But standing inside the armor—it didn't matter how weak he currently felt.  The armor would keep him upright.

               "Thanks," he said, letting out a soft sigh of relief as he spared another glance outside.  The ground was getting closer as the airship lost altitude, and he knew that all he could do was to minimize the impact landing would have on both the airship and the people inside.  "Get ready to hit the ground.  We have about a minute."

               With Cap following, he stomped back over to the controls, removing his gauntlets so he could use his hands freely.  "Shh, baby," he crooned, flicking switches and shifting levers.  "You'll be able to rest soon."

               "Tony," Cap said in warning.

               Tony nodded.  "Hold on to me, Cap," he said.  He made a few more adjustments, shifting his stance as he sensed—since he couldn't see—Cap coming up behind him, arms cautiously wrapping around Tony's metal body.  The alarms went quiet with one more flick, the flashing lights following suit in the next second.  "Three… two… one—"

 

*

 

_Collision happens, and the sound of impact rips through Steve's eardrums, the static of the radio fading into irrelevance—_

 

*

 

Abruptly, the two of them jolted forward, Tony grabbing onto the control panel to remain steady as Cap held onto him for the same reason.  The sound of the bottom of the airship scraping the ground was so deep he could feel it in his bones, his teeth chattering as the vibrations made their way through his body.  From behind him, Cap let out a soft grunt, but made no other sound.

               And then it was over, the noise suddenly vanishing and leaving only a gaping silence in its place.  Tony straightened, still feeling tremors in his body, and looked around.  The airship was even more of a mess now, items toppled and strewn about everywhere.  But it was fine.  They were down on the ground in one piece, and considering the other possibilities, this was actually pretty good.

               "You okay?" he asked.

               Cap had stepped back, his hands trembling a little.  Tony watched him take a deep breath.  "Yeah," he said.  "Should we go?"

               Tony nodded.  He started stepping toward the exit, but paused when he noticed Cap still standing there.  "Something wrong?"

               "I," Cap said, but then failed to follow up with anything meaningful.  Tony stared at him a moment longer, and finally Cap shook his head.  "No.  Sorry.  It was just a rough landing, is all.  Let's go."

               Since Cap was actually moving now, Tony accepted his answer, and he pushed open the doors and stepped out of the airship, which was lightly smoking behind him.  They'd hit several rocks when they'd landed, apparently—no way was the hull going to be in any serviceable condition after this.

               But that was okay.  Leaving, for now, wasn't part of the plan.

               Tony cast another glance over at Cap once they were out in the open, still concerned.  It had undoubtedly been a rough landing, but Cap had surely seen worse.  They hadn't even fallen over.  But Cap looked back at him, his face all business, and Tony knew that whatever Cap was dwelling on, Tony wasn't going to hear any of it.

               "There's a structure," Cap said, pointing in the direction of the smoke.

               Tony followed his gaze.  It was coming from something situated in the water.  "Definitely not an oil platform," he said.

               Cap let out a soft hum.  "So do we check it out?" he asked.  "Cut some trees down, build a raft, sail over?"

               His tone was light, but he looked concerned, as though fearing that that was actually what they had to resort to right now.  Tony had to hold back a laugh.  "God, no," he said.  "I have a few new tricks up my sleeve, you know.  Ones that never appeared in _Marvels_."  He stomped over to where the water started, looking back at Cap.  "Want to see for yourself?"

               "Yes," Cap said immediately as he followed him over.  "What is it?"

               Tony grinned as he bent over to point out some places on the suit where Cap could brace himself.  "Hold on tight," he said.  "Because forget walking on water—we're going to be using jet propulsion."

               "Jet _what_?" Cap began, but Tony started up the engines as soon as Cap was situated, and in the next second, they were zooming out over the water, Cap letting out a startled sound behind him.  "Oh, my God!" he shouted over the roar of the motor and the wind.

               Despite the fact that they were rushing to what was increasingly looking like a large aircraft carrier in the middle of the water that was also definitely on fire, Tony had to laugh at Cap's obvious glee.  "You like that?" he called back.

               "Yes!" came the response.  "It's like—like flying, almost!  Without the plane!"

               "Damn right!"  Maybe that was why Tony enjoyed this aspect of the suit so much.  It was just a shame he hadn't added these modifications until _after_ _Marvels_ ended.

               But like with everything good, it couldn't last.  As they got closer to the carrier, it started opening fire on them, water spraying up as bullets hit the surface of the sea—and that, Tony had to say, was enough to convince him that this was certainly a place of interest.  Tony swerved out of the way, making sure Cap stayed behind him—if anyone got it, he'd rather it be him in the armor, and not Cap, who was vulnerable while hanging on.

               "Hey," Cap called out between rounds of gunfire.  "Do you remember the plan?"

               Tony let out a bark of laughter.  "Guns blazing?" he called back.

               "Yeah, that," Cap said.  "You wanna maybe do some of that now?"

               "Do I ever!" Tony shouted.  "Hey—get ready for some real flying now, okay?"

               Before Cap had a chance to ask for more details, Tony increased the power in the boots, enough to go airborne.  With their weight—hell, even with just the weight of the suit—he couldn’t sustain it for long, but all he needed was enough lift to get them onto the carrier.  The move surprised nearly everyone involved—Cap let out a whoop of delight as the men who were firing at them made simultaneous sounds of panic and alarm.

               That was pretty much the best reaction he could have hoped for.  He landed on the deck with a loud thud, cracking the floor beneath him.  From behind him, Cap let go, his shield coming out in one swift movement.  "I'll take care of the guys on the upper deck," he called as he ran off.  "Head toward the fire when you can!"

               "Stay safe," Tony called, bringing out his own weapons as the men stationed on the ship started advancing toward him, their guns out.  Tony started walking toward them, the suit brushing off the bullets they were firing at him, and shot at them in return.  It wasn't long before they were all downed—in retrospect, Tony realized that there were far fewer people than there should have been, and the people who _had_ been here were clearly disjointed and confused.

               He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

               Either way, the coast was clear, and Tony made a run for the other end, which was still going up in flames.  He was cut short when a lone figure burst out of nowhere and crossed his path, and he was just about to raise his gauntlets when he realized—it was _Pepper_.

               "Pepper!" he yelled.

               The figure stopped short and turned toward him.  She was holding a gun, but after a second of stunned disbelief, she lowered her arms and ran in his direction.  "Oh, my God," she said.  "I thought I'd heard—but I didn't actually think—you're _here_ —"

               "Yeah, I'm here," Tony said, holding one arm out.  It wasn't much of a hug, encased in metal as he was, but Pepper accepted it anyway.  "We tracked the transceivers here before they were destroyed.  What the hell is going on?"

               "Jarvis faked a heart attack so that they'd try and give him medical attention," Pepper said breathlessly.  "We took our chance and overpowered the guards.  Trying to take over the whole carrier now so we can get out of here.  I was going to take on the guys up here but—"  She glanced over Tony's shoulder to see the men he'd taken down earlier.  "That may not be needed anymore.  But there's still other things to take care of."  She paused then, glancing off to the side before looking back at him.  "Tony.  There's this man who's been tracking us.  He's here.  He locked himself up somewhere and he's armed and he definitely has that last fragment.  You have to find him."

               Tony nodded.  "Yeah," he said softly.  "Yeah.  I'll find him, Pepper.  We're going to end this."

               "Okay," Pepper replied.  "I'm gonna see what can be done to secure the rest of the ship, because we're going to need a way off and you can't carry all of us.  Good luck, Tony."  She placed a hand against one gauntleted arm, then nodded, stepped to the side, and broke out into a run again.  Tony watched her go, then remembered his own tasks.

               Find the man. Get the final piece.  Bring everyone home.

               To do those things, he needed Cap.

               But Cap was gone.  Tony remembered him saying he was going to the upper deck and that they'd head toward the fire afterward.  That was as good a lead any, so Tony kept moving forward, closer to the flames that Pepper or one of the others must have somehow started.  God, he hoped none of them were trapped in there somehow.

               It wasn't long before he found a door that had clearly been taken down by force—kicked in, not kicked out.  Cap, then.  Tony decided to head in, arms lifted and gauntlets at the ready.  If Cap had already been through here, then maybe there was no danger—but given everything they'd been through, it never hurt to be careful.

               There were stairs, and he took them down one by one, the armor clunking awkwardly with each step.  It wasn't meant for fine detail movement, but the alternatives were to either stay outside or discard the armor, and neither appealed to him.  So further down he went, following the trail Cap had left behind—a fallen guard here, a shield-edge-shaped dent there.  He wondered where Rhodey and Jarvis were.  He hoped they were alright.

               He descended down another flight of stairs—he was probably near the bottom of the carrier now, because from what he could tell the only way out from here was back up.  There was one more door, the locks forcefully broken apart.  Tony had to assume once more that it was Cap's work, so he pushed the door open and stepped through.

               The first thing—the _only_ thing—he saw was weapons.  Rows and rows of weapons, from guns to bombs to other items whose purpose he could only guess.  And somehow—that felt strange.  Off.  He was Tony Stark, the world's foremost expert in the latest in weapons technology.  There was, he thought, nothing in this field he didn't know about.

               Apparently he'd been wrong.

               But that was the other thing.  He was looking at these things now and he didn't know for sure what they were—and yet they still seemed familiar, like machines he'd come up with in a dream that had since faded from his memory.  How was this possible?  How could he not know what these things were while still feeling like he did, somewhere deep down inside of him?

               His ruminations were cut short when he became aware that there were other people in the room, conversing loudly enough for him to hear.  If they were aware of his presence, they made no mention of it.  It seemed unlikely that they _weren't_ aware—the armor was hardly silent—but Tony decided to try and keep quiet anyway as he edged closer to the voices, using the shelves of weapons as  cover.

               "You know," one voice was saying, accusing and almost frantic.  "You know what it does.  Tell me!  Tell me why I'm seeing these things—"

               It was _Cap_ , Tony realized with a jolt.  In their short time together, Tony had never heard Cap sound this way before.  He could barely even comprehend the idea that Cap _could_ sound this way.  Cap was supposed to be fearless, and yet right now… he sounded almost afraid.

               "I was not so fortunate as to have its powers impact me directly," the other voice replied coolly.  Tony didn't recognize the speaker, but his gut was telling him it was the man in the wheelchair.  The one who had pursued them so far.  The one, Tony hoped, who they had finally pursued and cornered here.  "But I do know what it does.  And I know you already know.  I don't need to tell you anything."

               "You tried to kill us," Cap snarled.  "More than once.  Give me what I'm looking for and I won't try and immediately return the favor."

               The other man laughed; Tony could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in response.  "I'm calling you on your bluff," said the man.  " _Captain America._ "  The name was drawn out, each syllable precisely enunciated, the sneer evident in the tone of his voice.

               For a beat, there was silence.  Tony couldn't see anything, but somehow he could visualize Cap's stricken expression as though he were standing right there in front of him.

               Finally, the man spoke again.  "In any case, your friend has joined us.  I would much rather include him in the conversation, don't you think?"

               Tony froze.  He still couldn't see anything, and he was pretty sure they couldn't see him, but it was clear that the other man, at least, was aware of his presence, even if Cap hadn't been.  He took a moment to consider his choices.  Stepping out and just shooting him seemed like the cleanest solution, minimizing the risk in case the man _was_ armed, but Tony wanted answers, and killing him wasn't going to help him get any.  They'd need to talk first.

               So he stepped out of the rows of shelves, his gauntlets aimed at the man as he came into view.  He'd been right—it was the wheelchair man and Cap after all.  Cap was standing with his shield out, his whole body radiating tension, like he was ready to spring into action at any moment.  The man, meanwhile, looked completely at ease, leaning back in his seat, a blanket covering his legs.  He looked utterly unsurprised to see Tony, while Cap stared at him with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted.

               "Yeah," Tony announced, "I'm here.  And I'm thinking we should start with introductions."

               The man stared at him.  Once again, Tony felt a twinge of familiarity, but he couldn't pin it down exactly.  He must have seen this man before, but when?  He couldn't remember.

               "You don't recognize me," the other man said, as though reading Tony's mind.  "You ruined me, and it didn't even matter to you."

               "I've ruined a lot of people," Tony replied, managing to keep his voice relatively steady.  He thought about his first night on the mission, lighting Virgil's candle.  "And I can assure you, it all mattered to me."

               "Liar," the man hissed, and Tony jolted despite himself.  The movement, fortunately, was mostly hidden beneath the bulky armor, which Tony was grateful for.  He rolled closer, seemingly undeterred by the gauntlets Tony was still holding up.  "Look at me."

               Tony hesitated, torn between the desire to just end this and blast a hole in him, or hold out for more answers.  He spared a quick glance at Cap, who was looking at the two of them intently.  His shield was still out.  Deciding to take a chance, Tony flipped up the faceplate with one hand, then held the gauntlet out in front of him again.  "I'm looking."

               "And you still don't recognize me," said the man.  "Donald Birch.  Does that ring any bells?"

               That rang bells _immediately_ , and Tony nearly stepped backward in shock.  Now that he'd said it—yes, he recognized him, even though his face was gaunt and his hair gone.  "You're supposed to be in jail," he said.

               "Funny how things can slip through the cracks when a crisis is happening," the man—Birch, apparently—said.  "You can hardly blame them.  They needed scientists."

               "Tony," Cap said from off to the side.  It was the first time he'd spoken since Tony's presence was made known.  "Who is this man?"

               Tony wasn't sure how much time he wanted to spend explaining things, especially when Birch was the one who should be doing all the talking.  He needed to know the story behind all the weapons down here.  But Birch wasn't attacking them—yet—and Cap was lost.  So he stared at Birch dead in the eye, then said aloud, "A criminal.  One who once worked for me."

               "'Worked for you'," Birch repeated.  He spat.  "You stole my designs!  You had me jailed!"

               "Because you were blowing up our research divisions!" Tony snapped back.  What the hell was this?  Birch should have been behind bars for the rest of his life, and yet here he was, sitting free on an aircraft carrier off the shore of Turkey.  He slammed a hand against one of the shelves, his patience frayed.  "What do you want?  Why are you here?"

               At this, Birch inexplicably smiled, holding up something.  It was, Tony realized with a start, the final piece of the artifact they'd been searching for.  The fact that Birch had the piece after all wasn't surprising—he'd suspected it for a long time, after all—but seeing it here now, right in front of him, made his heart skip a beat.  They were so close to it.  So close to the end.

               "I know you know what this is," Birch said.  "And I know you have the other pieces."  He set the piece down on his palm, and they all watched as it oriented itself toward Cap, seeking to be reunited.  After half a second, he closed his hand, then rested it on his lap.  "I can only imagine what could have been accomplished had I had the complete relic.  But the beauty of it was that even the one piece was enough."

               "Enough for what?" Cap asked.

               "Enough to see," Birch replied.  His shoulders were low, relaxed—like he was completely at ease in their surroundings.  "I had a helper.  She could use the stone and see even if I couldn't."

               Tony pursed his lips at hearing that, though he tried to school his face back into a neutral expression afterward.  So little of what Birch was saying was making sense.  See what?  Who was the helper?  Was there any point in asking about it?

               Before Tony could decide, Birch made the choice for him, continuing on.  "She could see enough to know both that there was no future for me, but that there was still a future for you."  He drummed his fingers idly against his lap, gazing away before focusing back on Tony.  "It was an unpleasant truth.  But I realized that you could have a future and still be ruined.  So here we are now."

               "Here we are," Tony agreed.  He still didn't know what was happening, but there were two things that were clear: one, that Birch was clearly not right in the head, and two, that it was definitely dangerous for him to have all these weapons.  "I'm not particularly interested in being ruined, so I think we'd better end this now.  Cap?"

               Cap stepped forward and plucked the final piece out of Birch's hand.  It happened so quickly, Tony could hardly believe his eyes.  Was that it?  Had they just retrieved the whole relic at no cost but having to spend a few minutes of their lives listening to someone babble?

               Birch started laughing.

               No, Tony thought dimly, suddenly feeling very tired—or at least, more tired than he already felt.  Of course this wasn't the end of it.  "What," he said.

               Birch looked back at Tony, his eyes crinkling.  "You think that was it?" he asked.  "That taking that piece from me was all you needed to do?  Tony, Tony, Tony.  There is so much more happening.  Look around you.  Do you see what is in this room?"

               "Weapons," Tony said.  That was obvious.  "And let me guess, you're going to attempt to set them off in order to destroy something."

               "Good boy," Birch said.  "Even better, I already have them ready to fire, and they should be going off right around now."

               There was a _click_.  Tony whipped his head around, half-expecting to see the room suddenly be engulfed in flames, but he saw only Cap, who was staring at his hand.  A hand, Tony realized, was ungloved and wearing a thick orange ring.

 

*

 

_"Hey," Tony says with a grin, tossing a stapled stack of papers toward him.  "Take a look at this."_

_Steve looks up from the shield, which he's been polishing.  "What is it?" he asks._

_"Just look," Tony replies.  "Pepper mailed it to me the last time she was on land.  I guess she put it together in between writing more articles about the boys in the Pacific.  We'll never publish it, but it seemed like something worth chronicling.  I'd barely believe it happened if she didn't remember the same things."_

_Steve sets the shield down and reaches over to pick the papers up._

Tony Stark _, says the cover page in crisp black ink,_ and the Search for the Time Stone _._

 

*

 

Cap looked up and met his gaze, his lips parted in—shock?— and then a loud explosion from above rocked the ship.

 

*

 

_Steve quickly flips past the pages, his hands shaking.  There's dialogue attributed to Pepper, Rhodey, Jarvis, Tony, Captain America.  Setting descriptions corresponding to the tomb, to the airship, to the ruins of Fengjing._

_"…and they should be going off now!" says the Birch in the script._

_He goes to the next page and stares at it._

_"Meanwhile, above deck…" it proclaims._

 

*

 

"You're wrong, Mr. Birch," Cap said.  His gaze seemed unfocused, but he looked remarkably calm otherwise, completely at odds with Tony's frayed instincts, which were telling him to go back up and find the others.  "The others.  They're up there, destroying the carrier's missile launchers as we speak.  Nothing is leaving this ship."

               Tony and Birch both stared at him.  How could Cap know this?  Was there some kind of plan the others had that he hadn't been aware of?  He wanted it to be true, but—how?

               "No," Birch said.  Tony looked back at him, and he was glad to see that Birch was no longer laughing, his pale face drawn and concerned.  "I was supposed to ruin him—ruin his future—with his own weapons—"

               _My own weapons?_

               Cap shook his head.  "You didn't see enough," he said, his voice level even as they heard more commotion from above.  His hand wasn't raised, but Tony could see it at his side, clenched.  It seemed like the ring was—well— _glowing_.  "You saw that Tony's arc continued, and you thought that you could make an impact on it somehow.  But you can't change what happens.  Not to you and not to him.  You made the wrong choices now and that's all there is to it.  You came all this way to lose."

               "No!" Birch repeated, his voice sharper, more panicked.  "I know the stone works!  How do you think I ambushed you in China?  How do you think I knew you would come here?  I was told by someone who could use it—who saw what you'd done before you'd done it!  I know!"

               "You don't know anything," Cap said.

               Tony felt very strange, like he was a spectator in his own life.  His arc, his weapons, his life.  They were talking about them as though—as though these were all done things.

               It was the ring, he knew.  The ring was involved somehow, but the specifics remained a mystery to him—Birch, he thought, had touched on it earlier.  It was why he'd needed a "helper", because he couldn't use it himself.  But the helper could use it.  And Cap… Cap could use it.

               The carrier shook again.  Tony was trusting Cap, believing him when he was saying the others were up above, preventing any of the missiles from firing.  Because if that wasn't happening, if they were actually getting slaughtered while Cap and Tony were down here dealing with Birch, Tony didn't know what he would do.  Some way, somehow, Cap understood the truth.  He had to.

               "It's not over," Birch said loudly, bringing Tony back into the conversation.  He wasn't smiling like he was before, but he'd regained his composure, a glint in his eyes.  "It doesn't matter if your friends have sabotaged the launchers above.  If you want nothing to leave the ship, then we'll play your way.  Nothing leaves.  We stay and we die together."

               "You're crazy," Tony said.  Birch seemed undeterred, though.  Even as Tony saw Cap thrusting his arm back, getting ready to throw the shield, Birch was reaching under the blanket, his fingers closing around something, and then there was another click, this one sounding much more ominous than the sound from before.  The shield sailed past Birch half a second later, cutting the thing he'd been holding—a remote, maybe—cleanly in half, but Tony had a sinking feeling it was too late.

               Birch opened his hand, letting the ruined remote drop onto his lap.  He looked utterly unconcerned with everything that was happening.  "You have one minute left," he said.  "Godspeed."

               Tony sucked in a breath, glancing over at Cap before looking at the rest of the room.  He thought he could hear something ticking.  One minute, Birch had said.  One minute to stop the bomb he'd presumably triggered from going off.

               "Tony," Cap said.  His gaze was sharp now, focused entirely on him, as though Birch was no longer in the room.  "We can make it through this.  Do you trust me?"

               Fifty-four seconds left.  Tony breathed in deep and gazed back.  "Yeah," he said.  "Yeah, I trust you."

 

*

 

_"He's hidden it," script-Steve says, accompanied by a description of him gesturing somewhere off-panel.  Script-Steve and script-Tony start running as script-Birch laughs again in the background—_

 

*

 

There was another door, as it turned out, one that swung open after a few well-placed strikes from Cap's shield.  It didn't lead up or down—it led, instead, to another room, one lit by only whatever was coming from outside the room.

               There was something big inside, and it was definitely ticking.

               "I know what this is," Tony breathed as he stepped in, blindly running his hands against the cool metal.  He'd thought of it before, conceived of it in idle thoughts and corner scribbles in his notebook.  But it wasn't real—or at least, that was what he'd believed.  But the evidence, even as poorly-lit as it was, was right in front of him.  Someway, somehow, this was his design.

               And, in forty-five seconds, it was going to kill them all unless he did something about it.

               He went over to one side, feeling the walls of the bomb until he reached a latch and undid it.  There was a control panel inside, though he could barely see it in the darkness.

               "Do you know what to do?" Cap asked.

               There were no wires to cut.  Of course there weren't.  This wasn't designed to be dismantled so easily.  But it was possible, because it was him and there was always, always a failsafe.

               He just had to figure out what it was.

 

*

 

_"I want to show you something," Tony says during one of Steve's rare stateside visits.  "Come on."_

_He leads them to his workshop, where there's something that's clearly in-progress sitting on one of the tables.  It doesn't look very big, but Steve's seen it before, and he knows that it will be part of something much grander._

_"I built something," Tony continues, as though that weren't obvious.  "Sunset's seen it already, but I didn't tell her what I'm going to tell you.  I don't think she'll appreciate it.  But you will."  He pushes down on one of the buttons on the panel, and immediately it starts beeping._

_"Should you have done that?" Steve asks._

_Tony chuckles.  "It's fine, darling," he says.  "Now look at this."_

_There's a simple keyboard laid out on the panel—just the alphabet, arranged in one long row.  Tony presses one key, and Steve sees that it seems to trigger something connected to the key, not unlike the way the keys of a piano worked._

_"Okay," Steve says.  "So you can type into this."_

_"I can," Tony agrees.  "Ostensibly, it's so someone can further customize the parameters instead of just dropping it somewhere and hoping for the best.  But I also built something else into it.  Right into the schematics, so you can't just take it out, and no one besides me can tell it's there even if they stare really hard at the designs.  A way to stop this thing if it needs to be stopped.  A failsafe."_

 

*

 

Tony stared at the long line of letters he could see on the control panel and realized, with thirty-nine seconds left, that he had no idea what to do with this.

               "This is the part where you need to trust me," Cap said from the doorway.

 

*

 

_"It's a passphrase," Tony continues.  "And it's horribly sentimental.  I named it after some of my favorite scientists."_

 

*

 

"Santos-Dumont," Cap said.

               Tony looked back at Cap, bewildered.  "What?" he said.

               "Santos-Dumont," Cap repeated.  He'd placed the tips of his fingers against his head.  "S.  That's the first letter of the passphrase you need to stop it from going off."

               Trust him, Cap had said.  They had thirty-four seconds remaining.  Tony hit the "S" key.

 

*

 

_Tony lifts his finger from the "S" key.  "He was a pioneer in the field of aviation.  I owe a lot to him."_

_His hand drifts to the "T".  "Tesla."_

_"That's obvious," Steve says with a quirk of his lips._

 

*

 

Tony still didn't know what the hell Cap was having him type into a bomb that shouldn't even have existed, but here he was.  "Okay," he said.  "S and T.  What next?"  He appreciated the fact that Cap seemed to have _some_ plan of action, but with twenty-nine seconds left, it would have been nice if he picked up the pace.

               Cap couldn't answer, because he was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a gun going off, his shield flashing in the light to deflect the bullet.

               Damn it.  Birch still had some fight left in him, and he was using it to distract the only person who had any idea what was going on.  "Cap!" Tony called out sharply.  Cap spared a glance at him long enough to show that he'd heard, but he immediately turned away again to continue defending himself.  "You know what the passphrase is—you're gonna have to input it.  I'll take care of Birch!"

               There was a pause, but then Cap nodded, running into the room as Tony stepped out in the suit—and there Birch was, holding up an automatic rifle and pointing it right at him.

               Tony held his arms up, charging the repulsors.  The suit could withstand bullet fire.  He wasn't afraid—not of any physical consequences, anyway.  But Birch—Birch was here and Birch hated him and Tony couldn't help but wonder if maybe he could have done something different.  Maybe all of this was his fault.  Things so often were.  "Don't make me shoot you, Birch," he said quietly.  He wasn't sure if he even could.  Birch clearly had bad intentions and evidently didn't plan on stopping anytime soon, but if Tony hurt him, what kind of stain would that make on his soul?  Even though he knew, he _knew_ souls weren't real, and yet… he worried.

               "Because that would ruin my life?" Birch replied, setting the rifle down and rolling closer.  "You've already done such a good job at that."  He paused, tilting his head a little.  "Did Captain America tell you?" he asked.  "What exactly that stone does?"

 

*

 

_"Eddington," Tony continues.  "Volta.  And Euler."_

_Steve blinks and glances up at him.  He's not sure if that was just highly coincidental, or… not._

_Tony's lips quirk.  "The sentimental part wasn't naming it after a bunch of scientists," he says.  "It was from naming it after the most important thing in my life."_

 

*

 

Tony had no answer, and neither did the rest of the carrier: everything suddenly went very silent, and for a second all Tony could hear was the sound of his own heart beating.

               Then Cap came out through the door, breathing heavily despite not having done anything strenuous, as far as Tony could tell.  "It's done," he said.  "It's done."

               Tony automatically looked back at Birch, half-wondering why he hadn't started shooting at them again.  Birch's head was lolled forward and he was no longer moving, and it dawned on Tony that he was dead.  Either from his sickness or from the shock; Tony didn't know.  It didn't matter.  It was done.

               He turned toward Cap again.  He'd known, somehow, the key they'd needed to stop it.  The key that Tony himself didn't know.  His gaze drifted down to Cap's hand, where he remembered seeing the relic, the completed ring—but even though the room was dark, he could see enough to tell that it was gone.  "Where," he managed, finding himself at a strange loss for words.

               Cap hesitated as he clenched his fist, staring hard at the base of his fingers.  It was difficult to tell, but Tony thought he could see a band of darker skin around one finger, the one that had wore the ring.  Maybe it had burned him.

               "Gone," Cap settled on at last.

               Gone.  They'd tried so hard to unite the pieces, only to have it disappear once they had finally succeeded.  Tony didn't know how to feel about it.  Maybe that was okay.  Maybe the only thing they had ever really needed to do was to keep it away from those who would have used it for harm.  And if it had vanished itself, then maybe they had done good.

               And with Birch dead and the ring gone, then one thing was clear: it really was done.

               Tony found himself sagging suddenly within the confines of the suit, the joints bending, the back slumping.  It's done, he thought to himself over and over again.  It's done.  It's done.

               "Hey," Cap said quickly, stepping forward.  "You okay?"

               All the strength Tony had exerted to stay upright, to get himself this far—he didn't need it anymore.  He could finally, finally relax.

               "Yeah," he murmured.  "Yeah, I'm fine."  

               "Are you sure?" Cap pressed.  He'd come even closer, one hand lightly touching the armor.  "I think we need to get you out of this thing.  It can't be very comfortable in there."

               It wasn't, and Tony was frankly exhausted and he still hurt everywhere, and yet… he found himself not caring all that much.  "It's fine, Cap," he said.

               "Steve," said Cap.

               Tony glanced up quickly.  Had he heard right…?  "Pardon?"

               Cap reached up, his hand against the cowl that covered most of his face.  There was a moment of hesitation, but then he moved his hand, pushing the cowl off to reveal messy blond hair to go with the blue, blue eyes.  "My name is Steve," he said.

               Without thinking about it, Tony's hands automatically reached to undo the latches holding the armor in place.  A few seconds ago, he hadn't minded the thought of remaining cooped up inside.  But now—now he wanted out.  To not have molded metal separate him from the man who had just opened up to him.  "Well, Steve," he said, oddly breathless as he stepped out, "my name is Tony.  It's very nice to meet you."

               For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, Tony feeling like his heart was pumping almost uncomfortably loud in the silence.  Captain America… the hero, the legend… had just revealed himself to him.  _Him_.  Tony was still processing it.  But then his body remembered how achey and tired it was, and he sagged forward again, this time without the suit to keep him standing.  Cap—Steve—was by his side in an instant, strong arms wrapping around him so that he wouldn't fall over.  "It's nice to meet you too," Steve said.  "I just wish it were under slightly better circumstances."

               Tony found himself laughing, even though he couldn't explain why.  "No," he said, shaking his head.  "No, this is fine.  I'm okay with these circumstances."  He glanced up, struck by the intensity of Steve's gaze.  They'd known each other for—what, all of one week?—and yet Tony felt like it had been much longer.  He felt like they were bound together somehow, as though fate had somehow conspired to put them both right here and right now.

               "You are?" Steve pressed.

               Tony exhaled softly, feeling at peace in Steve's arms, like this was where he was supposed to be.  "I wouldn't have changed a thing," he said.

               Steve ducked his head a little, looking contemplative.  "Nothing, huh?" he finally murmured.

               "Nothing," Tony replied firmly.  There was an—opportunity here, he felt.  And if he took it, things could go so right.  Or—also as likely—it could go so, so wrong.

               He hadn't, he decided, gotten this far by not taking any chances.

               And so he reached up, placing one hand against Steve's shoulder, starting to slowly slide it up toward his cheek.  Steve could have moved away if he wanted, but he didn't, instead remaining rooted in place.  Once again, there was nothing to hear but their hearts beating in the stillness of the room.

               "Because," Tony said, leaning in, "I met you."

 

*

 

_"Morning, darling," Tony whispers, and Steve's eyes flutter open, blinking slowly in the pre-dawn light.  It takes a while to focus when the wake-up call was so lovely, but Steve manages it eventually, gaze settling on Tony._

_"You're up first," he says, mildly surprised._

_"Well, we've got a castle in the mountaintops to storm, don't we?" Tony replies._

_Steve realizes belatedly that Tony's hand is on him.  "We have another hour before we have to go anywhere."_

_Tony grins, radiant even in the near-darkness.  "Yeah," he says, and he leans in close, lips brushing against Steve's cheek.  "And I plan to make the most out of that hour."_

_Steve is struck again, as he so often is, by how much he loves this man, how_ fond _of him he is, and how painful it will be when it's over.  But over or not, he will always have now; will always have this moment of Tony treating him like a treasure, and he gives in gladly to the feeling._

 

*

 

Of all the people Tony had expected to make some sort of comment, Jarvis had been on the top of that list, but when he'd herded them all into one of the working planes on the aircraft carrier and presumably noticed how close Tony and Steve had been, he'd only shook his head and told Tony he looked like hell and needed his rest.  So Steve had led Tony to the closest thing the little plane had to a bed and laid him down on it, sitting down on the floor beside him afterward.  The others, to their credit, had sensed their need for privacy, buckling into the passenger seats closer to the front of the plane—well out of earshot, given the noise the plane was making.

               For a long while, they sat together in silence.  Tony wasn't sure what was going through Steve's head; hell, he barely even knew what was going on through his own.  But they were here now.  They were holding hands.  And Jarvis and Pepper and Rhodey had all seen and they hadn't said a word.

               "So," he said finally.  "Cap.  Steve.  I gotta ask—what is this?  What are we doing?"

               Steve jolted, as though shocked by the sudden conversation.  His gaze drifted for a moment, but soon enough it refocused, landing on him.  "What do you want?" he asked softly.

               Tony hadn't expected the question to be turned back onto him.  "I want to be happy," he blurted out, surprising himself.  Damn it.  Had he actually said that out loud?  "I mean," he continued quickly, trying to salvage this somehow, "doesn't everyone, right?  It's a stupid answer.  It doesn't mean anything."  Not to anyone but him, anyway.  There was so much he carried with him, so much that weighed upon him.  He would never be unburdened.  Virgil, the atrocities of the war, now Birch… they were all a part of him, a reminder of the ways he had failed.  If he had planned more, seen ahead better, things would have been different.  But he hadn't.  He hadn't.

               Steve looked at him.  Tony thought he could see something in his eyes—it looked almost like sadness, and Tony found himself terrified that Steve might be able to read him, to know what was going on in his head.  That was the last thing that he wanted.  Steve liked him.  Tony didn't want that to change.

               "I want you to be happy too," Steve replied, and the conviction in his gaze and his voice almost broke Tony's heart.

 

*

 

_"I trusted her," Tony whispers over the phone.  "Steve, I trusted her.  And she took everything and ran."_

_They're separated by entire countries right now, but Steve can still hear the ache in his voice, the agony of the betrayal.  Tony had reached out and trusted her, because—because that was what he_ did _.  He trusted people.  He opened himself up to them and let them do what they wanted._

_Steve had tried to warn him about Sunset.  He'd realized, eventually, the truth about her—of how she was only using Tony for her own ends, of how she would leave as soon as she got what she wanted._

_And, of course, the truth of how she had known Birch.  She'd been the helper.  She was responsible._

_But that last part—he couldn't share it with Tony, because the only reason Steve knew about that was because of the stone that was now a part of him.  And it was still a part of him he hadn't told Tony about._

_So he'd given his warnings, ones with most of the truth filtered out, but Tony had told him he'd known about the Bains for years, and that they were a technological powerhouse in their own right, and collaboration would only help.  Steve was left to watch her get everything she wanted, and now he's here hearing Tony whisper his regrets into his ear._

_He'd always known that this was how things would turn out, but it still pains him to hear Tony's pains._

_"Was she always going to do this?" Tony asks quietly.  "Could I have changed things somehow?"_

_"You couldn't have," Steve says, and he means it more than Tony will ever know.  She was always going to do this.  Things would always go this way.  But if Tony could see what he could—he wouldn't understand.  He would always think he could change the future._

_That belief and the fact that he wouldn't be able to would have destroyed him._

_But as much as Steve knows that to be true, as much as he knows that for now, at least, he has to keep the knowledge of the stone a secret, he also knows—this is betrayal._

_Someday, Tony will find all of this out, and he'll know Steve is no better than she was._

 

*

 

"Is it strange if I blame myself for what happened with Birch?" Tony asked softly as he stared up at the ceiling of the plane.  Because he did.  Rationally, he knew he'd done the right thing.  Birch had harmed his company and his employees.  Jail was the correct place for him to be.  But—what had he _done_ to make Birch do those things in the first place?  Was it something he could have changed?

               Steve looked at him sharply, his brows furrowing.  "Yes," he said.  "Why would you think that?"

               "We knew each other," Tony said.  "I think—I think he was under the impression that I hadn't paid much attention to him, maybe.  I don't know."  He went silent for a while, thinking about all the people he had known.  "I'd like to think that I was an okay boss.  I tried.  But maybe I didn't try hard enough."

               "No," Steve replied almost immediately.  "Tony, the man was building weapons and he was trying to blow us all up.  I don't really care how you treated him.  What he did has no excuse."

               Steve was using his official Captain America voice.  Tony hadn't known the man for very long, but he had a feel for the Cap voice now.  It was hard to argue against it.

               "But," Tony said anyway.

               "No, Tony," Steve said, his voice more gentle now.  He sighed, looking hard at the wall of the plane.  Tony followed his gaze.  It was slightly more interesting than the ceiling.

               For a while, both of them sat there in silence, staring at the walls.  Tony had thought Steve would say something more, but it seemed like nothing was forthcoming.

               Finally, though, Steve spoke up.  "Tony," he said.

               "Yeah?"

               There was another long pause.  Tony was about to prompt him when Steve at last continued, "If you could see what happened to you in the future… not just days from now, but months, years… what would you do?"

               Tony thought about Birch, about the circumstances that had led them onto an aircraft carrier outfitted with weapons he had thought he'd only dreamed of.  He thought about Virgil, who had died so quickly and so suddenly.  He thought about Gia, about her betrayal and how he had gone right into their trap.

               "I would do everything in my power to change it," he said.

               "I thought so," Steve replied quietly.  He reached up to take Tony's hand and just held it for a while.  "Because you're the futurist.  You try to mold the future into your vision.  Right?"

               "Right," Tony said, a little hesitant.  He wondered where Steve had picked up the term from.  "Do you have a problem with that?"

               Steve let out a soft laugh, surprising Tony.  But then he shook his head, and Tony relaxed.  "No," he said.  "Because that's an integral part of who you are.  And it's something I always have and always will admire about you."

               Embarrassingly, Tony thought he could feel his cheeks color.  He glanced away.  "Those are strong words, Cap."

               "Doesn't mean they're not true."  Tony looked his way, only to find that he was looking back at him now.  They were still holding hands.  Then Steve got up off the floor, moving closer to Tony and maneuvering him into an embrace.  Tony was more than happy to go along with it, even if Steve was talking nonsense.

               "I missed this," Steve continued, so softly that Tony wasn't even sure he'd heard right.

               Maybe it was just more nonsense.  Tony said nothing and let Steve hold him in the increasing darkness as the night settled around them.

 

*

 

_"I don't want to see you again," Tony says, and just like that, it's over.  Tony is gone, and Steve knows that he won't find forgiveness in this lifetime._

_He looks down at his hand, at the barely-visible scar left by the ring.  Maybe he shouldn't have said anything.  Maybe he should have continued to lie.  But he had made the choice to tell the truth before he'd ever even been aware that he could make it, and so his fate had already been cast in stone.  It was this way because it was supposed to be this way._

_Steve thinks about what lies ahead of him and wishes that it wasn't, it wasn't.  But it is, and Steve would gladly experience death a thousand times over than to ever let Tony shoulder that burden._

 

***

 

It felt like an eternity between Captain America requesting assistance from Tony Stark and him actually needing it.  Tony had been hovering at the radio the whole time, feeling unsettled and anxious.  So much had happened between them, but it was over.  Had been over.  Tony had made the choice to leave, and Captain America… Steve… had made the choice to not contest it.  And that was where they were.

               But Steve was in trouble, if the concerned operators tracking the plane were anything to go by.  Something was wrong with the controls, and that was why he'd needed Tony's help, so he could talk him through how to land the plane safely, because right now it was booby trapped and damaged and he couldn't just risk attempting something on his own.  But the initial request had been frantic and rushed, with the consensus being that there was someone else on the plane with Steve, trying to take it down, and so Steve had been silent, presumably preoccupied with fighting whoever it was.

               Tony wasn't heartless.  The betrayal had hurt, but a part of him still loved Steve.  Would always love Steve.  And if Steve needed his help to get the plane—and _himself_ —down to safety, Tony would do everything in his power to give it to him, even if they went back to no contact afterward.

               So when the radio finally crackled to life, it was all Tony could do to keep himself from leaping forward and grabbing onto the box, though he did curl his fingers around the microphone, trying to keep himself from shaking.  It would be okay, he told himself.  Steve had survived the fight.  They would land the plane and everything would be okay—

               " _Sorry, Mr. Stark,_ " he heard.  " _But I'm unable to receive anything right now.  I'm hoping you can still hear me—_ "

               "Out," Tony said loudly, and immediately, everyone in the room rose and exited, sharing sideways glances and concerned murmurs.  Tony ignored them.  It didn't matter.  Nothing mattered but the man on the other line, the one Tony was supposed to save from exploding over the Atlantic.  He had to save him.  He had to.

               "Captain America," he tried, even though he knew that if Steve had said he couldn't receive, then he couldn't receive, but he didn't want to believe it.  "Cap, I'm here.  Can you hear me?"

               There was static.  Tony waited with bated breath.  Then—

               " _There are some things I wanted to say,_ " Steve's voice continued, and the fleeting hope Tony had felt immediately dissipated.  Steve couldn't hear him.  Steve was on a deathtrap and there was not a damned thing Tony could do about it.

               "What," Tony whispered into the microphone anyway.

               For a moment, there was no answer.  Tony wondered what the pause was for.  He wondered if Steve was gathering his thoughts, staring into the distance with those blue, blue eyes of his.  Tony hadn't seen those eyes in a long time.

               There was a reason for that, Tony reminded himself, but with the certainty of what was about to happen creeping up on him, whether or not he wanted to consciously acknowledge it, Tony found himself not caring.

               Finally, the radio came back on.  " _I wanted you to know that I always wished things could have turned out differently_ ," came Steve's voice, sounding oddly disembodied.  Tony was doing nothing but sitting here, and yet he could feel his heart start to pound uncomfortably fast.  " _But I am also grateful to have known you, and I wouldn't have changed a thing—_ "

               Tony stood.  He didn't know why, but he couldn't sit there anymore, listening to Steve say what sounded like—like a damned _goodbye_.  This wasn't happening.  It wasn't.  It wasn't.

               " _—because I made a choice, Tony.  I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't make the same choice again.  But it hurt you.  I know it hurt you.  And for that, I will always be sorry._ "

               "Cap," he said, because he didn't know what else to say.

               " _I'm gonna put her in the water_ ," Steve said next, and his tone was so calm, so accepting, Tony could almost imagine him at the bedside of a child, putting them to sleep.  " _It's the safest thing to do.  Then everyone will be okay._ "

               "Don't!" Tony yelled into the microphone, even though by now, he knew—he _knew_ —that there was no point.  Steve couldn't hear him.  But he had to try.

               " _Hey, Tony._ "

               "Don't," Tony repeated weakly.   He wasn't even sure anymore what he was trying to forbid, but he needed to stop _something_.

               " _Thank you._ "

               "Cap," Tony breathed, his knuckles white.  "Steve.  Darling.   _Steve!_ "

               There was the sound of static.  Tony dropped the microphone onto the ground and screamed.

 

*

 

_Steve stares back out into the ice, shining so brightly with the glare of the sun reflecting off its surface.  He knows what's next.  He knows he'll collide and then there will be nothing but the cold and the dark.  He knows that it will be the last thing he experiences._

_He's often wondered if this was always what he was destined to do.  That no matter what he had done, he would always end up here in a ticking time bomb, ready to plunge deep into the Atlantic._

_It would have hurt less, he thinks, if he hadn't known Tony.  There are a lot of people he doesn't want to leave, but Tony especially so, even after everything that has happened.  But he had known him and loved him and hurt him anyway, because—because._

_Because he doesn't want the darkness to be the last thing he sees.  Because he doesn't want it to be the last thing he feels._

_He closes his eyes and he remembers Tony._

 

*

 

"I saw something.  Turn right.  A little more.  More.  _There._ "

               From beside him, Pepper gasped, clutching her hands against her lips.  "Oh, my God," she said.

               And Tony just stared.

               _If you could see what happened to you in the future… not just days from now, but months, years… what would you do?_

               The words felt like they were from a lifetime ago.  In a way, they were.  A divide had been created when he had left Steve, and still another when Steve had drove that booby-trapped plane into the Atlantic and Tony had done nothing to stop it.

               He died a hero, everyone had said.  History would never forget him, they added.

               Tony didn't give a damn about history.

               _What would you do?_

               It had taken Tony some time to realize it, but it had come to him eventually—the terrible truth Steve had touched on when they sat together on that plane and Tony had thought that their future was infinite.  Steve had known.  He had known, even then, years before it happened, what he would do and what it would lead to.

               And he had done it.

               That was the burden Steve had lived with in those years between their journey together and his last moments on the plane.  The knowledge of the future.  _His_ future.

               If Tony had known that years from when Steve had asked that question, he'd be here in the Atlantic to find his body, what would he have done?

               Change it, he'd answered, but he wondered now if that had ever been an option.

               He reached forward with the submarine arms to gently, gently wrap them around Steve's still body, floating before them so ghostly and pale in the floodlights.  From beside him, he could hear Pepper struggling to keep her breaths under control.  Jarvis was in the back, silent as always.  Tony wished badly that Rhodey could have been here for him in this moment as well, but he'd already been deployed back to the front lines.  This would have to do.

               "Let's bring him home," he said quietly, and together they rose toward the light like ghosts leaving a body.

 

*

 

Steve opened his eyes and saw only today.

               "Oh, my God," came a hushed voice from beside him, and Steve turned to confirm what he already knew—it was Tony.  Somehow, it was Tony, even though they had parted ways, even though Steve was supposed to be at the bottom of the ocean.  "You're awake."

               Awake.  Something felt wrong about that.  He wasn't supposed to be here.  He'd died.  He'd seen it happen over and over again in the glimpses of the future that had come to him for years, inevitable, inescapable, inexorable.

               But he was here, and there were no glimpses to be found.

               "Say something," Tony whispered.

               Steve wasn't sure if that would work.  He felt like it had been such a long time since he'd done that.  _Thank you_ , he remembered.  Those were the last words he'd spoken.

               He had to try.  He opened his mouth, and—

               "Hi," he said.

               Tony stared at him.  He was older, Steve realized.  Not a lot older, but there were a few creases that hadn't been there before, a few more white hairs that had once been black.  But Steve still found him beautiful.

               Then Tony laughed.  He put a hand to his mouth, and from the way his eyebrows creased, Steve wasn't actually sure if he was laughing or crying.  Steve realized with a jolt that he was doing both.  "Hi," Tony repeated, and his eyes shone with fresh tears.  Without thinking, Steve reached up—mildly surprised that his limbs were working as expected—and brushed them away with a thumb.  Tony didn't pull back.  "You're miraculously alive even after crashing a plane into the Atlantic, and that's what you come up with?"

               "What would you have come up with?" Steve tried.

               That set Tony off into another fit of laughter and tears, so Steve had to reach up and brush them away again.  "Good point," he said once he'd calmed.  "It's better than nothing.  It's—God, it's so much better than nothing."  He reached up at that point, taking Steve's hand, except then he seemed to reconsider it, letting go in the next second.  Steve wished he hadn't, but he didn't comment on it and instead wordlessly pulled his hand away.  "I don't know what to say," Tony finally continued.  He took a deep breath, staring into the distance.  "I thought you died."

               Steve swallowed hard.  He could see the ice again, rushing ever closer.  He blinked to get rid of the memory.  That was all it was now—a memory.  Not a vision.  "I thought I'd died, too."

               Tony nodded absently, going quiet for a few moments.  Then: "I don't know how you're still alive," he said finally.  "But you are.  And… I noticed something.  The mark on your finger.  From… from that ring.  It's gone.  Did you get rid of it?"

               Steve instinctively knew that Tony was right, but he looked down anyway.  There his hands were—pale and unmarked, the way they had been before that day on the aircraft carrier so long ago.  "No," he said.  "I didn't.  It must have disappeared on its own."  He couldn't pretend to explain it.  It didn't follow the rules of nature.  It had bound to him, and then, apparently… it had left.

               He glanced back up in time to see Tony staring at him, brows slightly furrowed.  "I want to believe you're telling me the truth," he said at last, his voice soft.

               There it was, the gulf between them.  The reason Tony had taken his hand and then pulled back.  The reason they had parted ways.

               "I am," Steve replied, but he knew it was up to Tony to trust him.

               Tony closed his eyes, let out a long exhale, and then opened them again.  "I was so angry," he said quietly.  "Finding out what you'd kept hidden.  Thinking you didn't trust me."  He paused, as though waiting for Steve to say something, but Steve knew Tony wanted to continue, and so he kept quiet.  Tony nodded to himself.  "And then I listened to you—die.  And something clicked.  I realized why you hadn't wanted to tell me before.  So I understand now, a little.  I don't think I'll ever _fully_ understand, but this is going to have to be enough.  All I really know was that hearing your voice while you were on that plane, speaking to me, and then nothing… I thought that a part of me had died with you.  I realized the mistake I'd made."

               "You shouldn't blame yourself," Steve said.  Always, always, Tony looked to himself first for the flaw.

               "Too late," Tony said with a short laugh.  "It's fine.  I'm used to it."

               "I wish you weren't."

               Neither said anything for a while, the silence between them dragging on.  Steve thought—hoped, maybe—that there was something Tony wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to.  Maybe Steve had to be the one to say it instead.  Maybe he was the one who had to take the chance.

               "Tony," he said, and the other man looked back at him, expression unreadable.  "Even if you understand, I still hurt you.  That will never go away, and I am sorry for that.  I don't want to do that again.  And—I want the chance to not do that again, if you'll give it to me."

               He was afraid of a lot of things.  Of rejection.  Of uncertainty.  Of what terrible things might lie for them in the future as they irrevocably marched toward it.

               But among the fear there was joy and there was beauty and there was love.  He had seen it all.  And no matter what happened—it _would_ happen, and Steve could only make sure to treasure the time between now and the end, whenever that was.  He'd learned that lesson after having been bound to the stone for so long.  It had been what had broken them apart, but it had also been what had brought them together in the first place.

               Steve extended his hand, looking up at him.  "Will you?" he asked.

               Tony's eyes seemed wet again.  For several moments, he didn't move, and Steve feared that it was over, wondering if he should just give up.

               "Darling," Tony finally said, so softly that it might not have been audible without the serum.

               He put his hand in Steve's and squeezed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! If you made it this far, then yeah, maybe you guessed - this fic is an AU of a movie that was based off a Ted Chiang story. Hopefully that's enough for people who have seen the movie to confirm it while not spoiling it for those who haven't seen it. :)
> 
> Aaand as a reminder, here is the art again by ireallyshouldbedrawing!! <http://ireallyshouldbedrawing.tumblr.com/post/161695575290> I encourage everyone to reblog the frig out of it. :D


End file.
